First Revelations
by Daughter of the Black
Summary: *Sequel to The Ass* Buffy and House are headed down the aisle, but there are some Scooby sized bumps along the way.
1. Rubble

Here it is: The Disclaimer: I don't own anything-i'm even using my 'rent's computer. So clearly i don't own Buffy or House-sadly.

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Here it is the long awaited sequel to The Ass. I know it has been a while, but school has been hell. I've gotten a pretty solid idea down on paper for this story, but that doesn't mean i don't want to hear random ideas you all have. By the way, i was definetly put off of this season of house because of the House Cuddy kiss-sorry if any of you liked that. THis story will remain strictly Buffy House-no Cuddy house Loving here. That doesn't mean i will bash her either. Oh, and i finally decided on the ages for House and Buffy.

The first chapter of the Ass happened just after Buffy's Birthday so after Jan 19. Then end of the Ass happened the early weeks of July. And shortly after the team fell apart and Buffy had to go to England it is now about the end of september.

Right now: (I have reasons for all of the age changes. Some are only subtle, but House was important because i kind of figuired that Buffy wouldn't date a guy nearing 50-even if he didn't act it. Plus i just think that House looks so old because of His leg and his job-hehe. Love it or hate it, it won't play a big part.)

Buffy-23

House-36

Wilson-37

Cuddy-38

Cameron-28

Chase-27

Foreman-32

* * *

Rubble like the team was all around her. Bodies crushed beneath stone, and a thick layer of ash. Some she knew, others she did not. Even more were missing and listed on the pitted stone that was blackened from flame. She was here only two weeks earlier, to contend with "The Council". Apparently she was going to be relieved of her duty and if they could, her powers: Willow was back to "dabbling" with black magic.

There was one watcher left, and only a few slayers alive. Faith had survived, but just barely, she was comatose and her healing wasn't working the way it should. There were two slayers four hours out, they had only just been found before the explosion.

This was it, the end of the council.

Two baby slayers, a broken slayer, a mostly retired slayer, and a non-stodgy watcher. Sure, Buffy had a number of resources, but this was it-Giles, Dawn, Xander, Willow, Kennedy (the bitch), Rona, and all of the others were gone, dead, obliterated.

It all went back to Willow. She had closed off the activation spell. No new slayers would be activated by magic, only by death. Even then, it would probably be Faith's death not hers or the last two girls. The last of the true slayer line was lying in a hospital unaware of the devastation.

Willow was a fool, and Buffy felt only the tiniest bit of remorse when she found the body of her former friend crushed beneath a charred piece of wood-a ceiling beam Buffy registered.

The witch had reaped what she sowed, they all had.

Buffy had no tears. She knew who had done this, what had done this. Something she knew would return despite the others insistence it wouldn't.

_The First _

_Evil_

* * *

Buffy scowled down at her nametag, one more way her former friends were belittling her. Her guide, a younger slayer who had not been at the battle against the first was chattering about her kill count: a whopping three. After that topic had been exhausted, the faux red head eagerly recounted her earlier magic ed class with Professor Rosenberg: the witch had turned a research assistant into a rat by invoking Hecate.

If the oldest living slayer wasn't already t-ed off, the girl was certainly giving her enough to be: overconfident slayers, dark magic being demo-ed, and a general lack of respect and knowledge.

On a request from Giles, Buffy was halfway around the world from where she wanted and should have been. As it would happen, Buffy had to do a quarterly review of her accomplishments-that title alone ticked her off-and skills. Of course if it weren't for the fact that Willow was not so subtly threatening her Buffy wouldn't have come at all, New Jersey had, sadly few real magic shops.

The slayer really believed that this "review" had more to do with their visit-and the impending danger than an actual review.

Buffy stopped walking as she passed under an oak-it was squat and spindly, knobs and rough bark sprawled overhead-the green and red leaves swished back and forth. Staring upwards through the thick canopy, Buffy could only glimpse tiny flashes of sunlight.

"…So I think that after I graduate, Professor Harris will put me in charge of my own team, and that'll only be in a year," the girl stopped when she finally noticed her charge was standing still.

Head twisting suddenly, Buffy narrowed her gaze on the girl, "How long do you think you'll live?"

The slayerette was frozen to the spot, "What?"

"How long do you think you have?"

It was a sharp question, but it was necessary, "Just as long as any other girl."

Buffy snorted, "I give you two months once you're in the field."

The girl was frowning, arms akimbo, "That's ridiculous, what would you know about it anyway."

Buffy shook her head derisively, "What have _they _told you about slayers?"

The girl swallowed, and seemed to fold in on herself, "They used to die young, but now that there are so many of us we won't, we're meant to save people."

Buffy looked over her shoulder, irritated and saddened, "Partially, slayers save people yes. But the quantity has no effect on expiration date. You'll still die young. It's in your blood-what you're meant to do-die."

Leaving the stunned girl-child on the path, Buffy continued on the way towards the "inner sanctum" as Professor Harris had dubbed it.

Swinging the door wide, the slayer stalked into the meeting room, it seemed there was already a meeting in progress, she didn't care. Buffy hopped up onto a small counter and swung one booted leg over her knee. The others-or mostly the others-ignored her. A select few were watching her closely. Sighing loudly, Buffy pulled out a handkerchief and began to spit shine her boots-what else was she going to do.

After a good ten minutes of mindless droning about the efforts in magic study and attempts at treatise with some military groups-America especially-that had ultimately failed, and the growing threat in Ireland, Giles cleared his throat at Buffy. The slayer quirked an eyebrow at the tone he was using.

"Ah, Buffy, you're here," Giles smiled tightly, signaling that it wasn't an actual smile.

Buffy gasped, "What great powers of observance, Sir," came the sarcastic reply.

The vein in the side of his head ticked for a moment before he coughed, "Yes, well, the last time we saw each other it was a bit tense, but no doubt, you've come around."

Buffy ignored the obvious comment that she was wrong all along. Scanning the faces in the room, she registered the scoobies, her sister, several watchers and more than a dozen slayers-including Kennedy.

From the opposite corner, Buffy spotted a flash of dagger slicing through air. Clearly, Faith, the pair had made amends and then some back in Sunnydale, and this had become the norm. The two older slayers didn't openly act friendly, they couldn't because of the new council-but they stayed in touch-it was their thing.

Tiny placards at their seats around the table held their jobs, biting back the laughter, Buffy stalked towards the front of the room, sweeping her fingers along the backs of chairs.

"I had some time to look around."

"Oh," Giles asked.

"Yeah, you're army sucks," the slayer replied flatly, her face devoid of any warmth.

Kennedy the combat teacher shot to her feet, "You don't know anything, deserter."

Buffy's eyes widened comically and hissed, "Ooh, what an insult-I'd rather be dead than join this little sandbox brigade. Then again, vampire is looking pretty good compared to _this_-hell, chaos demon is looking better."

Giles cleared his throat, "Now, Buffy."

"No. Let's talk about Ken-Ken. Had any trouble with a purple slime demon," Kennedy's eyes flicked towards the door, "Yeah, I thought so. So, Mr. Commander, if you can't clean up your own fucking messes, why are you in charge!"

Willow was scowling, her eyes were tinged black, and the pencils on the table were doing maddening spins.

Faith jumped off her perch and strolled into the light, "Chill, witch, and Miss Bitch, sit down. B's right, if I find out that you're messing around-you'll be dirt beneath the watchers' feet, got it. Get on with the meeting. I've got things to kill."

A few of them looked chastised. Kennedy sat down but was pissy as hell, Willow just looked angrier. No one told her what to do.

Giles nodded, "Of course, um, Buffy-ah, why don't you tell the group about what you've done since last time you were here."

Buffy was doing a little happy dance inside but stiffened her shoulders, "I've destroyed a few talismans that are potentially dangerous, shut down a bite house, and I have a treaty with two of the area vampire clans."

Xander scoffed, "You've really lost it haven't you, two vampires weren't enough? You need more? Let me make this clear, you slayer, you kill vampires you don't play with them!"

Buffy kicked the leg of the table gently, but everything shook, water sloshed out of glasses, "Oh, well I figured that supplying them with blood in exchange for them not hunting was a good deal-but you know, if you want to volunteer, feel free."

Giles had taken his glasses off and Buffy could hear the tiny squeaks his sweater made on the glass, "That is rather remarkable, but perhaps not the wisest choice. Hmhm, anyway, for your skill assessment, there is a small city in Ireland that is having trouble with a small faction of Soul Eaters."

"Fine, you got it," Buffy spun on her heal and stalked out of the meeting room.

* * *

The waking vision blurred into place, stones flying into place, life rushing into the rubble.

A rush of warmth swirled up around her. Buffy inhaled and was drowned in the scent of ash and smoke and acrid burning skin. All around her they were running, screams not really there echoed, men carried armfuls of books, girls-weapons. The scoobies were screaming and scrambling to find the exits. Dawn was wide eyed, staring straight at her before the floor fell through, and Buffy's sister was swallowed by flame. Faith had run through a wall of fire and jumped out of a fourth story window before rolling to a halt-barely alive.

A body fell at her feet, burned tufts of died red hair only half covered the face: the pretentious slayerette.

Buffy could practically feel the vibrations as explosion after explosion leveled the building, girls falling like dominoes, ones she knew, and ones she did not. Standing in the center of it all, was a softly smiling figure wearing her face.

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Please read and review. Thanks. (Oh, and house will be in the next chapter, i promise.)


	2. Change in the Weather

Disclaimer: See first chapter

A/N:Because there seemed to be quite a bit of confusion as to what was happening in the first chapter I'll outline it for you.

Pretty much Buffy was looking at the destruction, then flashing back to when she first arrived at the council headquarters, and then returning to the destruction where she has a sort of waking vision of the explosions-and she thinks she sees the first. I may go back and add the places and the dates later if I need to. Also, I tried to clear up some of this stuff.

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September 26

_Princeton Plainsboro Hospital…_

House twirled his cane and glanced at the projection screen, a still, black and white photo smiled at the lecture hall.

"Who is this man," House asked as he paced slightly.

Forty potential fellows stared blankly at him and then at the screen, each had a number around their neck like a marathon runner.

No one spoke and House sighed frustrated, "C'mon, take a shot. I'm not going to fire you every time you get a wrong answer."

So he wasn't in the best mood, his fiancé was halfway around the world and due back in a week after more than a month away.

A plain man in the center of the room answered, "Neville Chamberlain."

House gritted his teeth and inhaled, "You're fired," 23 rose, slightly fish faced, but left, "Does this man look like he's ceding Czechoslovakia to a fascist dictatorship?"  
Buffy would have known, they had spent the afternoon before she left watching it, of course she had insisted on snuggling up to him and commenting on how wimpy Dorothy was.

In the middle of his reverie a warbled voice spoke, "Buddy Ebsen, an actor."

House shrugged his shoulders, "A dead actor. He was the original tin man in the Wizard of Oz, for a day. He was diagnosed allergic to the aluminum dust in the make-up. His lungs failed he nearly died, question is, why?"

A man in a wheelchair, 11, frowned, "Didn't you just say he was allergic?"

House slapped his cane down against the table, "You may not have legs, but you've got ears, I suggest you use them. I said he was diagnosed allergic. Since we are currently short exactly one interesting patient, we are going to figure out what really happened to Buddy Ebsen in 1938. Now on one hand he's not getting deader, on the other hand your jobs hang in the balance. So..."

A scowling Cuddy stalked into the room, "House?"

Sighing once again House started up the stairs and out the door only after he gave an assignment, "I want seven alternate diagnoses when I get back."

Limping into the hall, Greg looked at the wall behind Cuddy and worked his jaw, "Can I help you?"

Lisa pulled the door shut, glancing surreptitiously at the group inside, "She's been gone a month and you do this. I said three."

"It's been more than a month," House's face relaxed into an almost sad smile, "Besides, I've got a budget for three, doesn't mean I can only hire three. I cut the permanent salaries by 10 percent, over 3 years that'll more than make up for the breakage on the 27 that I'm going to weed out over the next few weeks."

Cuddy would have slapped him upside the head but House had been increasingly irate during Buffy's absence, "There are forty people in there House."

"39 actually, you missed the first firing. Fine," House pushed the door open and grimaced slightly, "Row, D, you're fired."

Slowly angry candidates filed out of the hall, House reached out and grabbed a young man wearing a Sex Pistols' shirt, "You're in Row D?"

The grinned like it wasn't obvious, "Yeah."

"One moment," leaning back into the classroom House cleared his throat, "Sorry, sometimes my words get up mixed, Row D is not fired. Row C is."

Tipping an imaginary hat at Cuddy, he went back into the lecture hall, slamming the door shut as he went.

Staring at the 29 hopefuls, he kicked his heel against his desk to the tune of "God Save the Queen".

A sharp beeping filled the air, House looked at his pager and his brow furrowed, "Apparently, I'm paging myself."

Without another word, he left the room.

* * *

"…Italian playboy Damian Lothario-rightly named-is in London this week. He apparently rushed to former paramour, Elizabeth's side after hearing of the tragic bombing just before midnight yesterday. No news as to who the bombers were, but the Queen was also on hand this morning, offering her condolences. Damian and Elizabeth were not available for comment, but the destruction is truly devastating. Back to you in the states, John."

"Thanks, Jane. If you happen to see Elizabeth give her my number."

A chuckle went through the studio and the potentials laughed. Just as the TV clicked off House walked into the room, "New patient. And next time I leave the room doesn't mean you get to watch TV. Thirty-year-old female, with synaesthesia. New rules: You generate a lab report – You shred it. X-ray - You melt it. No notes, no records, nothing. As far as you're concerned the patient is Osama Bin Laden and everyone not in this room is Delta Force. Any questions?"

Number 11 scowled, "We're protecting Osama Bin Laden?"

House grimaced, "It's a metaphor. Get used to it. Any more questions?"

11 started up again, "And you're not even going to tell us her name?"

"You think her name might be connected to what's wrong with her?" House pulled the sided door open, "Here's Osama!"

A young woman walked in and searched the room, almost nervously before siting down, "Now you all have numbers so we're going to do this, alphabetically. 8, 15, and 5."

House started to pace as the candidates began to question the new patient.

_

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September 26

_London, England Council of Watchers…_

Buffy swore as a familiar form swept through the crowd and media.

A warm hand on her back was all the warning she got before he was offering his services, "Elizabeth."

Buffy growled under her breath, "You know I hate that nickname."

"Yes, but it is so much more civilized than Buffy."

"Oh, yeah Damian? How about Slayer-is that civilized enough for you?"

Damian or rather, The Immortal chuckled, a spine-tickling, warm sensation, "Of course. Enough of this arguing, I came as soon as I heard. Anything you need, I'm here."

Buffy's scowl deepened as she watched rescue workers dig into the wreckage, pulling charred bodies out. As soon as she alerted the authorities, the entire London community had swooped down on her. The Queen had dropped by briefly and offered Buffy a place to stay and anything else she needed. Citizens were helping organize rescue teams. Everyone was coming together in the face of tragedy. And now, Damian Lothario was hovering around her. Just what she needed.

"Thanks, but I've got everything under control. Only one survived, she's being stabilized and then transferred to the states. There are two out in the field who I have to retrieve, but then that's it."

A tear rolled down her cheek as the smoke stung her eyes, "I was out when it happened."

_

* * *

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September 25

_London, England Council of Watchers…_

Crouched at the base of the door Buffy listened carefully.

"Willow, I understand your concern, I am as well, but that is a bit rash."

"I can do it Giles, why don't you just trust me!"

There was a familiar squeaking of glasses being cleaned, "I do Willow, but despite all of your accomplishments, you still need to limit your use of magic."

"I ended the spell, all of the activated slayers have been found, there are only two not in the compound. She's proven that she can't handle the power anymore. She'll only get us killed, I love Buffy, we all love Buffy, but she's changed."

A heavy thunk though muffled was still loud enough to hear the anger behind it, "We've all changed. That does not mean that we should strip Buffy of her slayer powers. I dare say you've made some truly spectacular mistakes yourself, does that mean we should strip you of magic?"

An indignant gurgle came from the witch, "I'm the one with the power. Buffy can't handle it!"

Buffy shuddered when a high-pitched pop indicated the witch had teleported.

"Good lord," Giles muttered, "I've become blind just as she said I was. Dear Girl, forgive me, I never meant to turn my back on you."

Buffy straightened and turned to leave the "compound", she couldn't stay, she would come back tomorrow to give her report on her mission.

_

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September 26

Damian was talking to her, Buffy was ignoring him, her gaze locked on a smoky figure on the far side of the land-a preacher. He was standing over the spot the slayer knew Giles' body had been found.

Cutting Damian off Buffy turned and walked towards the road and the van the Queen's guards had dropped off not long ago, "I've got to go. I have to move."

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September 26

_Princeton Plainsboro Hospital…_

13, 39 and 32 stood in House's office trying to inform him of some medical crap that related to the case, House was looking carefully at his computer.

39 spoke up, using volume in an attempts to get her boss to listen, "No evidence of clots and other than elevated red blood cell count ah, the ah, blood work was unremarkable," she stumbled over her words as she glimpsed Dr. House's computer.

Greg glanced back at 39 then at 32 who looked disgusted.

House frowned but went back to the computer, "Got a problem with the naked female form?"

Blushing minutely and suppressing the cough, 32 lied, "Not at all."

A self assured and cocky woman who Greg pegged as using her looks to get her around rolled her eyes, "Maybe she's just not used to seeing it spooning with the naked dolphin form."

"That's not a dolphin, it's a porpoise. There is a difference you know," Greg replied matter-of-factly before muttering, "Salary for one thing."

Cocky, or 13 scowled, "You want us to give you a minute?"

TBC…

* * *

I intend to use several episodes, but i haven't decided to what extent i'm going to use the script. This episode is fairly heavy, but i skip most chunks without House in them...mmm, and just like i said, House was in this one. Seriously, tell me what you all think.


	3. Delirium in Absence

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Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: I know I put a lot of you off this series because I am being serious in the start…I know, a lot of people just want fluff, but I am resolved to having some kind of slayer plot underneath. Have no fear, there will be a heavy dose of fluffiness with a minor plot. I just felt that if the only plot was on House's side it wouldn't turn out as well.

Hmm, oh, and those of you who feel I am bashing the scoobies by killing them off, and having buffy not be upset-that stems from my anger over season five thru seven treatment of her. I do like the scoobies, and I will maybe bring them back in flashbacks in a better light, I just want this to be Buffy centric unlike a lot of fics out there (which I do enjoy). If you don't like it don't read it-but if you do, please review.

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September 26

_Princeton Plainsboro Hospital_

House turned around to insult the girl but his gaze caught on a blonde man walking by his office. As if in slow motion, the figure turned to talk to a companion-it was Chase. House rose to his feet abandoning his task of signing Wilson up for bestiality porn and walked into the hall but he could not see his former fellow.

13 continued talking, "A high red blood cell count likely means..."

"Carbon Monoxide poisoning," House cut her off.

39 looked down at the chart in her hand, "There are a lot of different explanations for elevated red blood cells."

House squinted still trying to see Chase, "Yeah well which one fits best with the damaged flue, that your competitors found, in the gas fire place in Osama's cave."

24, the other woman who seemed to rely on her looks walked up to him, "Car's clean," she smirked at the other potentials.

House looked past her, "Did you just see a blonde guy with a pretentious accent?"

24 looked a bit incredulous, "You can't see an accent."

House frowned, "Good point. Can I have my car keys back?"

24 gulped down a breath of air, looking shocked and a little scared, "Give me the car keys, and put the patient in a hypobaric chamber. Now get out of my office," Greg snatched the proffered keys, then proceeded to slam and lock the door once the four women were gone.

Slumping behind his desk, House picked up his phone and dialed a number from memory. It rang for a moment before going to voicemail, in that moment he looked deeply disappointed and much older than his 36 years.

"Hey, it's me. Do you know if Chase is back at the hospital. I swear I just saw him walk by my office, please call me back. I can't be imagining him, I love you, be careful."

Putting the phone back in the cradle House sighed dejectedly before throwing his oversized tennis ball at the light switch and plunging the office into darkness.

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September 27

_Princeton Plainsboro Hospital_

House rolled a coin over his knuckles as he stared down the potentials. It had been an eventful day aside from the possible hallucinations: they had set the patient on fire yesterday.

"Ok scooter, new day, new ideas. Do a transeosphageal echo, and since the positive divisors of 26 are 2 and 13 have them assist. The rest of you, go to the cafeteria and document 10 things that could cause infection. Each."

More than a dozen applicants were walking around writing down stuff, as James Wilson sat in the cafeteria filling in the newspaper crossword. House walked up to his friend and dropped into a vacant chair.

Snagging a discarded piece of bagel, House licked his lower lip.

Wilson winced, eyes tracking House, "I wouldn't. Someone named 17 thinks there could be lysteria in the cream cheese."

House shrugged, "17's a stupid number," Taking a bite of the possibly infected breakfast food, House looked down at his shoes, "What's Chase doing here?"

That caught James' attention, he quirked his eyebrow, "You saw Chase?"

Eyes widening in a "clearly" gesture, House frowned, "Last night, outside my office.

Wilson put his pen down, "That's interesting."

"It's more curious than actually..."

"Chase took a job at the Mayo Clinic in Arizona. A week ago. Interesting... It wasn't Foreman or Cameron you saw, but Chase, the one you fired."

House scowled, "Not interesting. Someone who looked like someone I used to know walked by my office."

Wilson smirked, "It's always interesting when a repressed guilt starts un-repressing itself."

"The only thing I feel guilty for is this," House tossed the rest of the bagel into the still warm coffee. It landed with a plop, splashing coffee over the edges.

"Real mature, House, of course there are other explanations."

"Like?"

Wilson looked back at his crossword, "I don't know, I was just saying there could be other explanations."

Jerking to his feet, House licked his pinky and as he passed his friend, he stuck it in his ear.

Wilson gave a disgusted jerk and shuddered, "What the hell?"

"You're the one that called me immature," House replied innocently, "Just trying to live up to it."

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September 27

_England, Four Hours outside London_

Pulling into the dingy village Buffy parked the van and got out. Stretching she peered around, it was quiet, no one was out on the overcast day. It was one more thing she hated about England, if it wasn't a warm, sunny day no one was outside. In good old America there would be cars whizzing down the road and children jaywalking.

After triple checking her weapons, the slayer marched across the road and towards the tavern and inn. Pushing open the door, Buffy was glad to see it was filled with customers.

"Hi," she waved her hand in front of the bartender, "I'm looking for a girl. Emmy, do you know where I can find her?"

"You her family?"

Buffy frowned, "Legal guardian. Why?"

The man set down his dishrag, "She showed up here out of the blue, last month. She told me her parents had yelled at her, and she left. I figured she meant ran away, figured she'd come to her senses and go home in a few days. So tell me, does she even have parents?"

"No, she was an orphan."

"So how'd you end up as her guardian, I got a daughter of my own, so I want to make sure she's in good hands."

Buffy smiled, "I worked as a councilor in a high school for a while, and then I lost my baby sister, and I wanted to do some good."

"I'm sorry for your loss. I'll go get the chit."

The man disappeared into a back room and after a few moments a girl only an inch or so taller than Buffy returned with him. She had golden brown curls and a heart shaped face. Dark blue eyes etched with sadness, Buffy exhaled.

"Emmy, I'm Buffy Summers. I was hoping we could talk for a few moments in private," slowly, so as not to frighten the girl, Buffy extended her hand palm up.

Emmy glanced towards the bartender before placing her tiny hand in the older girl's hand.

Squeezing ever so gently, Buffy smiled.

Emmy swallowed before cracking a smile of her own, "They told me about you, a little. Are you here to take me?"

Buffy closed her eyes, "Yes, and no."

"What does that mean?"

"Please, private would be better," Buffy lowered her voice slightly.

Emmy nodded but there was still a slight fear in her eyes, "My room."

Buffy followed the timid girl through the back door and up a flight of stairs and into a small room with a bed and a dresser.

Buffy closed the door and leant against it, waiting for an invitation that would probably never come, "You know of your…destiny for lack of better words."

Emmy nodded, "Yes."

"No doubt they wanted you locked up nice and tight at their headquarters."

Again the girl nodded, "The man did tell me that, the one with the eye patch."

"Yeah," Buffy snorted, "He had a way of being rather controlling. The bad news is, the council, their headquarters was destroyed two days ago. Everyone there died, except for one. I've had the necessary documents drawn up so that I could adopt you. There are three active slayers left in the world, two are in this room. I can train you, you'll have a relatively normal life, and I won't keep you locked up. You won't have to run."

A tear slid down the girl's face, "Why me, I'm nobody."

In one swift move, Buffy had pulled the girl into a hug, "Because you're special, because you don't want the power. What do you say? Do you want to see America?"

Emmy nodded into the older woman's shoulder.

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September 27

_Princeton Plainsboro Hospital_

House scowled at the patient, Greta, who was struggling in between his new candidates, "Anytime now, it's not like she's getting _any more jittery_."

Finally, a needle to the neck settled the woman into faint mumbling and drooping lids.

Letting out a breath as Cuddy glared at him disapprovingly and berated him, "…I can't wait until she's back!"

The click of her heels signaled her departure, but House's focus was on a blonde woman exiting the clinic, Cameron.

Ignoring his urge to follow the possible mirage, House started back to the lecture hall.

* * *

House rolled his cane between his palms as he sat facing Wilson, "How do you scan a liver without scanning a liver? And what's Cameron doing here?"

Wilson smiled except it was more of a smirk, "Interesting. So you're seeing Cameron now?"

"No. Not interesting because not seeing. Saw," House tried to push the conversation in the right direction, "My patient wont consent to MRI's or ultrasounds, and you've dealt with more liver cancer than anyone else here."

Wilson's eyes flickered upwards before focusing on his computer screen, "So you want me to share the secret scanning techniques I learned in Nepal? Unfortunately, the monks made me swear a blood oath," pausing, the oncologist narrowed his eyes at the other doctor, "Where was she?"

Not missing a beat, House replied, "In the lobby. I guess we could palpate the area around the liver."

"Which wont work unless the tumor's enormous, which you _know_, which means your here because these visions are freaking you out," James smiled triumphantly.

Bouncing his cane on the floor, House glanced at the wall to his right as he answered, "She had blonde hair, why would I hallucinate that?"

Wilson laughed in his head, but spoke with all seriousness, "Yes. Yes, why are you merging Cameron and Chase? We should find out before the next time you see her when she'll be black!"

Ignoring the jibe, House inhaled, "Mm-hmm, because, of course it's scientifically impossible for a person to go back and visit somewhere they worked."

"No. But since she's not a dead cat, it is scientifically impossible for her to be in two places at once."

House made a small noise under his breath and cocked his head to the side, "Physics joke. Don't hear enough of those. Just don't let Buffy here you talk about the cat, she always pouts."

Wilson ignored his friend's advice, "Cameron just called me from Arizona. Do you want to call," House rapped Wilson on the knuckles with his cane as the other man reached for the phone, "Maybe it's not repressed guilt, Maybe it's just panic. Right now you've got enough fellows to build a railroad. But you're going to have to narrow that room full of numbers down to three people."

"Any chance you could turn this creative brilliance towards my patient's liver," House asked as he popped a pill.

"I think you're going to choose people for reasons that have nothing to do with their skills. I think you're going to choose people just because you can't stand them. Because if you like them, well, that's just, stressful."

House frowned thoughtfully, "Stress... I like it."

As Greg rose to leave, Wilson sighed, "Of course, you're missing the most obvious reason you're seeing them."

Plopping back down into the chair House extended his cane so that it rested on his friend's adams apple, "Talk."

"You've gotten good at that, Buffy teaching you?"

"Stop wasting my time," Irritation began to thread through his face, muscles tightening.

TBC

* * *

Hope this helps get some people back in the mood, I know some of you love what's happened, and some hate it, but I just right what's in my head-if you have a brilliant idea let me know and I'll try to work it in. Thanks!


	4. Atheist’s Reassesment

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: Mmm, I think everything is pretty much caught up-if you have major plot questions, they will be explored in this story.

_September 27_

_Princeton Plainsboro Hospital_

"Stop wasting my time," Irritation began to thread through his face, muscles tightening.

Wilson extended his hands, palms up to placate the man, "I just mean…well, isn't it rather obvious?"

House's eyes closed in irritation, "No."

"Ah, well, Buffy's gone, and you've only been engaged for a few months. You're afraid that you're going to drive her away, just like you did with Chase, Cameron, and Foreman. For once in your life you're genuinely happy and you actually think you'll screw it up."

The much thinner man scratched the nape of his neck, "She should've left me already…"

Wilson let out a sigh, "I know, they'll make her a saint yet. Besides, you deserve some happiness, and the nurses hate you slightly less now, and if you even think for a second of sabotaging this, I will kick your ass so hard Cuddy will need the Jaws of Life to remove my foot. This isn't just about you, now get out."

House locked his jaw but walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

James had a second of peace before the door opened again and Greg stuck his head inside, "But why was Cameron blonde?"

Tossing his pen down, Wilson dropped his head into one hand and pointed to the door with the other, "Out!"

"PMS-ing or what," withdrawing his head quickly, House narrowly missed the hockey puck that smacked the wall where his head had been.

Relaxing in his empty office, James finally let the smile peek onto his face before laughter shook through his body.

_

* * *

_

September 27

_England, Five hours outside London_

"Does it have a sequel?"

"No, thank god," Buffy giggled from the driver's seat.

Emmy sucked on her lower lip, "Was it made before 2000?"

"Yeppers."

"Does it have murder in it?"

"Of course," Buffy tapped the steering wheel to a song playing on the radio.

"Is it…present tense?"

"Wha-oh, no. Definitely of the past."

"Did you even go to English in high school?"

"Hey, slayer-and who needs school if Mein Fuehrer has a bug the size of Australia up his butt. Ahh, you just wasted a question!"

"No way, Buffy-I was insulting you, not asking a question."

"One good reason I shouldn't leave you on the side of the road," Buffy glared playfully with at the younger girl.

Emmy paused and cocked her head to the side, "Without me you'd die of boredom?"

Buffy couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah, yeah, so do you give up?"

"The game is called 20 questions. I still have 15 left Buffy."

"Aww, come on, you British have no culture anyway-at least not the good kind," Buffy pouted, and true to fact, no one, not even Emmy could resist it, "Oh goody, it's _The Big Lebowski_. We'll rent it when we get home."

Emmy smothered her snort, "Right, okay my turn let's do words, you try to list as many words as you can of the same letter. I'll start, Queen."

"Question."

"Quail."

"Quahog," Emmy raised an eyebrow, "What, it's a clam-bad trip to Rhode Island. Your turn."

"Mm, quixotic."

Buffy pouted, "Not fair, you have all the good words-ooh, I got one, quomodocunquize!"

Emmy's eyes widened comically, "That's more than two syllables-how did your brain not fry?"

Buffy narrowed her eyes as she spun the steering wheel wildly, pulling onto a side street, "One of my friend's had a slight-okay-major obsession with money. I picked up a few things, thankfully not the bunny fear."

Emmy was laughing it was a soft sound. She froze as city lights rose in front of her, though it wasn't nearly nighttime, it was dark and the sky was pouring water down on them.

"Oh, wow, is this it? Where the other slayer lives?"

"Yep, her name is Melody, she's about your age."

There was silence as Buffy maneuvered through the streets, whoever said driving on the wrong side was easy was so wrong. Every few moments the blonde would lean over and check a small post-it on her dashboard.

Buffy finally pulled into a driveway and turned the engine off, "Damn it!"

Slamming her head at the top of the steering wheel, tears threatened to fall.

Emmy reached across the car hesitantly, "Um, Buffy, what's wrong?"

Lip quivering, Buffy peered at Emmy, "I just came up with the best Q word ever! And now I can't use it!"

"What is it," Emmy asked, nervously threading a hand in her hair.

"Queller!"

Emmy squinted at the older woman, "I uh, don't think-is that even a word?"

"It's a demon," Buffy smiled brightly, all disappointment gone from her face.

* * *

_September 27_

_Princeton Plainsboro Hospital_

House glared appraisingly at the patient, 18, and 13 handed out small cups of tequila. House gladly tipped his down his throat.

Greta did as well, but shuddered horribly when she swallowed, "Why'd you have to pick tequila? I'd assume a single malt would have worked just as well."

Rolling her eyes, 13 risked a look at her potential boss, "Wasn't our choice."

House filed away that interesting tidbit about 13 McSlutty, "Ok. 2 minutes and we go round number 5," turning towards 18, the black Mormon, Greg pursed his lips, "So tell me about the magic underwear."  
18 laughed holding back as much derision as he could, "Is that why you're here."

House shrugged, "I'm the big drinker, doing my part for science. The interesting question is why your religious beliefs make you The Pickup Artist."

The man bowed his head and shook it, "Is that all you want, to know how I actually get women to like me? Getting lonely?"

Off in a corner of his mind Greg was doing a rather spirited victory dance, "Sorry, I don't stoop to that level of pathetic. No, I know what I believe. I'm just not quite sure what you believe."

Glancing off to a corner of the room, 18 gritted his teeth, "My religion has nothing to do with my work."

House inhaled slightly, his lips making a soft wet noise, "That's what Gandhi said."

The level of incredulity spiked, "No, Gandhi did not say that. Gandhi said, "Those who say religion has nothing to do with politics do not know what religion is," when a situation isn't clear, my religion encourages us to make our own decisions.

"Same difference," Greg scoffed then scowled, Buffy would get it.

When the potential didn't fire back, House swirled the bottle of tequila and stared at the plastic tray for a moment, "But your judgment was to say no. You used my judgment."

18 scowled, House noted it was a habit, "You made a good argument."

Now the guy was just giving House ammo, "Rational arguments don't usually work on religious people. Otherwise there would be no religious people."

18 snorted, "You're an atheist."

House grinned like the madhouse had a breakout, "Only on Christmas and Easter. The rest of the time, it doesn't really matter. Although I might have to amend the Christmas thing," he added as an afterthought.

Laughing, 18 quirked an eyebrow at his boss, "Where's the fun in that? A finite, un-mysterious universe..."

"It's not about fun! It's about the truth. Besides, the world is so mysterious, you'd probably have a spontaneous cerebral hemorrhage…"

House trailed off as a familiar body passed the door, "Take care of her, while you idiots were drinking she's _not_ breathing!"

He was right. The patient was gasping for air and flailing her hands wildly trying to get their attention.

Practically abandoning the use of his cane in his slightly inebriated state, Greg rushed after the retreating figure,

The possible Foreman rounded the corner just as Cuddy stepped in front of him, House groaned in frustration.

Cuddy stood arms akimbo, "I checked the tests you ordered."

Greg tried desperately to peer over her shoulder, "Did you just see Foreman?"

"You measured the density of her teeth!"

House dismissed her aggravation-when wasn't she, "It's a shortcut test for hypercalcemia. You had to have just passed him."

"So you suspected hypercalcemia from her complete lack of broken bones. Is that why you also ran three tox screens?"

House waved his cane arbitrarily, "Patient might've been sneaking uppers. He was in a white coat, did you hire him back?"

"Foreman is running the diagnostic department at New York Mercy," House frowned at this news, and Cuddy leaned in and sniffed him, "Have you been drinking," she asked in disgust.

Glancing back towards the room, he ignored the minorly-stuffy brunette.

"Oh my god," Cuddy exclaimed, her jaw dropping, "Your drinking at work! I don't care what your personal life is like right now, but drinking is not okay."

House was on the verge of leaving her standing in the hall when he stopped at her words, "What do you mean, _my personal life_?"

Cuddy placed one hand over her mouth, "You haven't seen the news?"

"What news?"

Cuddy perused the hall before stepping into a vacant room, House followed her, "Buffy was on the news, from what I read between the lines…The Council was blown up."

"Buffy…" House's world was slowly going gray and spikes of black shattering his sight.

Cuddy waved her hands frantically, "No, no, she's okay. They were hoping to get an interview with her…I thought you knew…she didn't call you, did she? Maybe you should go call Andrew. See if everything is alright."

House was scowling as only seen post-Stacy, "Yeah…yeah."

"Pick up the phone, I know your there! Andrew! If you don't pick up the damn phone, I will torch your wookie sheets faster than you can say Darth Vader."

A nervous voice stopped the ringing, "Please…don't."

"Oh good, you're there, where is Buffy?"

"Well, she had to go find the last slayers."

"Great, but when is she going to be back, and why hasn't she called me?"

Andrew whimpered, "She hasn't even called me, Damian called me and told me what was happening."

"Damian-tell me he's some stick up the butt watcher?"

"No? I'll call Buffy, okay, bye," Andrew hung up quickly, leaving House glaring at the photo of Buffy and him that he kept tucked in his wallet.

TBC

* * *

Reviews, please, I live on them…and vampires…and house…and—arghh-okay, just take pity on me and review so I know how often to update this. I'm trying for once a week, but school is pretty hectic at the moment---ah well until next time! Oh, and Buffy and House are going to be reunited in the next chapter!hehe. Oh, and future spoilers, Oz will be showing up as well as several vampires---you know for the wedding and stuff. Mwahaha!


	5. The Rest Is Silence

Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: Mmm, I think everything is pretty much caught up-if you have major plot questions, they will be explored in this story.

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* * *

_

September 27

_England, Five hours outside London_

Buffy threw her arms over her head, desperately trying to keep her already unkempt hair, dry. Emmy followed suite, though perhaps not as well as Buffy-Buffy did however have many years graveyard-hair-coverage practice. It took a moment for the two slayers to orient themselves to the dry, brightly lit porch, before Buffy reached forwards and rang the bell.

Emmy snickered at the chimes, "Ding dong, the witch is dead."

A small pang echoed across the blonde's heart, "Yeah," she replied half-heartedly.

The door crept open and a girl with golden red-orange hair stared back at them.

"You must be Melody."

"Umm, yeah, come in."

Buffy closed her eyes, "Lesson the first, both of you, never invite anyone in verbally—you can allude to it. Like saying "it's open" not an invitation."

Melody cocked her head to the side, "Why?"

"Vampires can only come in once invited."

Emmy looked thoughtful, "Why?"

Buffy shrugged, and stepped into the house, Emmy following after her, "There are plenty of theories. We'll have plenty of time later, parents," the last she directed at Melody.

"Living room, Mum's frantic."

Buffy's lips thinned, "Lead the way."

A man and a woman perched on the edge of a sofa, the woman tried to smile at Buffy, "You must be Ms. Summers, I'm Sarah, we talked on the phone?"

Buffy shook the man's hand, and nodded her head, "Yes, you understand what's happening then?"

Christopher, Melody's father cleared his throat, "We knew this was coming, The Council told us she was going to be picked up in two weeks. We-we'll be able to have contact with her?"

"Yes, of course, although there will be some rules. Nothing extreme, they're just for her safety, both of their safeties."

Sarah closed her eyes briefly, "What rules?"

"From here on out, Melody and Emmy are just Melody and Emmy. No last names, no family. There can be no paper trail to you. The Council will take official guardianship of the girls, and I as the closest member will be their guardian for all intents and purposes. You will be able to keep contact, but it'll be done through secure phone lines and secure internet. Visits will be scheduled carefully, and no family member will be involved in slaying."

Christopher breathed deeply, "I suppose you'll tell us that it's complicated, and its for the best, aye."

Buffy shook her head, "No, it's very simple. You're a liability to your daughter. Do you want to know what the number one cause of death is for a slayer? Giving up. Keeping you safe keeps her safe."

Sarah nodded and wiped tears onto her handkerchief, "What did you do at The Council?"

"I'm the longest living slayer," Buffy stated blankly.

* * *

_September 27_

_England, Airstrip outside London_

"Whoah," Melody grinned, "We have a plane? To ourselves?"

Buffy smiled, "Yep. Get on, I have to make a phone call with what's left of my battery."

Emmy raced up the steps, Melody right behind her. The two girls were getting on famously, which was a very good thing.

Buffy held down the number two key on her phone, a name flashed on the screen before the standard ringing was heard. It took a few moments before the line went silent. Buffy squeezed her eyes shut, the silence hurt.

"I'm sorry—things have been—they're—oh god—I need you."

The words slipped from betwixt her lips the tears tingeing her broken plea.

Still there was silence, the slayer could hear the familiar beeps and blips that came with a hospital, but most of all she could only hear the slow, deep breaths of the man she loved.

"You didn't call," despite his warm voice he cut straight to the heart of the matter—he always did.

"Everything is wrong, it wasn't supposed to be this way—none of it. It's all changed, I—hated them—what—am I a bad person?"

Even across an ocean Gregory House could feel the pain and self-loathing that coursed through his fiancé.

"No," his voice was softer, imploring the blonde to quit those thoughts, "Never—what happened?"

Buffy took a deep shuddering breath, "The Council is gone, blown up."

Finally saying was like cementing it in her brain, "I know, Cuddy told me, it was on the news."

There was an inch of pain covering those words, but he was trying to hide it, "Everyone died, except Faith—I had to find the last two—I'm bringing them back."

The line was silent again, "It's normal. After death, it's normal to feel guilty."

"I love you," Buffy smiled through the tears that leaked from her eyes.

"I love you too, now get your ass home. Oh, and I reserve the right to torture Wilson with these teenyboppers you're bringing home."

That made her laugh outright, "Deal, but that means you owe me something. Mm, I have to go, see you in about eight hours—try and get some sleep."

"Goodnight."

Buffy hung of the phone, swiped the tears off her face and marched up the staircase to the plane.

Buffy smiled cheerfully, "Ready for the adventure of a lifetime?"

Emmy smiled, "Vampires and demons—oh my."

Melody snorted, "Ooh, beware the sparkling fiends!"

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Let's get one thing straight, no self-respecting vampire would sparkle even if he could—they're more the burst into flame type. Second, some vamps are damn hot, and not evil—but most are and enjoy it way too much."

* * *

_September 28_

_New Jersey Airport_

Greg House leaned on his cane as he watched people hurry through the doors, he didn't like people, especially people who were early morning travelers. Shoving his irritation into a bottle he would later dump on Andrew, House adjusted his grip on the tray of coffee he had bought.

Keeping his eyes peeled, he couldn't help the grin that slid onto his face when he saw her trademark blonde hair. Looking at his feet, Greg scuffed at the floor, as his heart did a very good impression of tachycardia.

Before he could even see her face, he heard her voice, "Welcome to Jersey, more highway than we know what to do with."

The crowds parted and his blonde angel stepped through the group, a teen on either side of her. Though she was smiling, Greg knew right off that she wasn't okay. Her eyes were not their usual vibrant green. They were dark hazel, with specks of angry gold.

He only had a few seconds to set down his coffee before his arms were full of Buffy goodness. Smiling into her hair he wrapped his arms around her. Buffy inhaled his clean, very masculine scent. Home, she was home. Even with her slayer strength, his arms were wrapped around her with a bruising amount of force.

Their perfect moment was ruined by a snort from the peanut gallery, "Get a room."

House pulled away from Buffy and narrowed his gaze at carrot-top, "Gladly. Ta-ta, munchkins."

Grabbing Buffy's hand he made as if to walk away from the two girls. Buffy couldn't help but giggle happily, this was what was missing. A good dose of snark.

"Hey, keep your tongue in check—they're young and impressionable," Buffy scowled playfully and stood still.

House sighed, "Oh fine, so, who are the lollipop guild?"

Buffy turned to the two slayers, "Ignore my fiancé, he has withdrawal symptoms—we need to get him home. Okay, Greg, this is Melody and Emmy. Emmy, Melody, this is House."

Buffy indicated which girl was which with a wave of her hand. Greg sighed, but smiled slightly anyway.

"Welcome to the family, mm, we need to stop at the hospital on the way home—I have to go yell at some people."

Buffy frowned, "Alright," leaning against him, Buffy's eyes caught on the coffee, "Oooh, is that black goodness for me?"

"Actually it's for the pintsized."

Buffy narrowed his eyes and accepted the paper cup from him, "You're not allowed to hang out with Spike anymore young man."

House smirked and started to limp away, "Come on, I want to go torture Wilson."

Buffy giggled and shrugged her shoulders at the two girls, "Come on, it's best just to go with it. Unless he comes at you with a needle…"

Melody and Emmy were a bit wide-eyed but followed the older woman.

* * *

_September 28_

_Princeton Plainsboro Hospital_

One arm tucked around Buffy and the two new ducklings trailing after him, House marched through the hospital and into the ER. Scowling, his eyes lighted upon a blonde who should have been a brunette.

Slamming his cane down on the desk, it rattled everything and a can of pens jumped off the desk entirely, pens raining down on the floor around House's feet.

Melody and Emmy jumped, Buffy just looked amused.

The woman who had drawn House's anger on herself turned towards the foursome and held up three fingers, "Three weeks. For someone who never misses something small, you missed something big. Although maybe there's a reason for that, hmm?"

"You're an idiot," House said flatly.

Cameron rolled her eyes, "The hair, where I'm working, or both?"

"Cover the kiddies ears, sweetheart," House told Buffy not looking away from Cameron. "The hair makes you look like a hooker. I'm sure chase likes it. Pulling pieces of windshield out of car accident victims and reattaching fingertips sliced off cutting bagels. At least Chase's move is only one step down."

Another roll of the eyes, "I can do good here. Get it out of my system," she said with a hint of sarcasm. "It's good to see you Buffy, lunch tomorrow? So why'd you rat your patient out?"

"I don't know who's been gossiping about ethics instead of sex, but I hope they've already been fired. Which number was it?"

"Greta."

House tapped his cane against his leg, "Number!"

"No number. The patient. How do you think she got your pager number? She came into the E.R. didn't want to talk..."

"I didn't rat her out."

Cameron looked incredulous, "You, lied?"

"You look—surprised. Hmm, suppose I should tell her that before she keys my car."

Cameron turned back to her patient and swabbed a scrape on his arm, "Why?"

House shrugged, "Why didn't you…or chase tell me you were back?"

Cameron didn't speak, Buffy shook her head, "Lunch tomorrow, bring the boy toy, I want to see him in the sexy pink scrubs you wrote me about."

The tension was shattered, House smacked his girlfriend's ass, "You better not have just said that, I better be the only man you're looking at. Besides, I've seen the scrubs. They make him look gay—well, gayer than he already looks."

Buffy glanced between Cameron, Melody, and Emmy, "Whoops, better go cancel my—thing—with Wilson and Jane—you know, that cute pediatrician."

Buffy spun on her heel and stalked out of the ER, the remaining three women watched with more amusement than was wise. Greg's smile dropped from his face and he whimpered before limping very quickly after his fiancé.

"Not funny, Buffy. That is not a funny joke."

The slayer didn't answer she just kept walking.

House whined, "Buffy! Wait, tell me you're kidding. Not funny at all!"

TBC

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Oh, sorry for the wait, I've had some sever issues, my muse ran off into a very bizarre fandom and wo0ulndn't come back to this story. Mmm, Melody and Emmy may not play a huge role, I intend them to have a small bit, but it will still be primarily Buffy centric—I have plans which probably isn't a good thing. Oh well, please review.


	6. We Shall Find Peace

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: I feel really awful…it seems like forever since my muse has obeyed me. As it is this chapter was extremely difficult to get out. All feedback welcome. Hopefully there will be more regular updates.

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* * *

_

September 28

_th_

Buffy strode through the halls with a predatory grace akin to that of a lioness. It felt right. Not just the speed, but the familiarity of the path she took and the smiles from those she knew and some she did not.

Content flooded into every cell of her being and she couldn't help but smile at the three unique sets of footsteps behind her. This was fun. Not the same type of fun she used to have—not the same type of chase. She and Spike still played like that, but this was different. This wasn't a predator trying to catch her. This was…love, comfort, peace that was what sought her.

Buffy forced herself to move faster, the halls were clear and a little wickedness had seeped into her brain. Like water she slipped through a cracked open door before whipping it closed and flicking the lights off. A well placed finger on her lips to still Wilson's protestation, and Buffy was, with a bounce across the office and settled down quite happily.

Wilson had only a moment for the shock to fade before his office door crashed inward, bouncing off the plaster wall. House scowled as he flicked the lights on with a click of cheap plastic. His scowl deepened and his eyes glinted with steel. _His _girl was curled up on his best friends lap. Glaring at the oncologist, Greg's knuckles whitened around his cane.

"I'm giving you to the count of three to get your ever-loving, patient-loving hands off my girl."

Wilson's eyes widened sharply and he swallowed the large lump in his throat, "Uh."

Buffy stretched and squirmed like a cat for a moment before nuzzling against James' chest.

"No," she pouted prettily.

Wilson groaned almost happily and smiled down at Buffy, "Why aren't we together? I did meet you first."

Buffy looked thoughtful for a moment while she ignored the two girls giggling softly behind House. A smirk flickered across her face for a millisecond before she leaned into Wilson's ear, licked her lips and smirked.

"Because I like my men with a little evil in 'em, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes."

House's scowl fractured into a grin, "Damn straight. Now let's go home because I have plans tonight."

Buffy, Emmy, and Melody were exchanging eye rolls when House dexterously slid Buffy off James' lap and onto her feet.

Jutting her lip out, Buffy stared wide-eyed up at Greg, "Hey, I was comfy."

Greg smiled tightly, "I'll make it up to you."

With that promise, Buffy was eagerly pulling House out of the office.

Greg winked at Wilson before narrowing his eyes, "I almost forgot, you better watch your back. That was clever. Not telling me Cameron and Chase were back. Clever, but a death sentence none the less."

And that was all he wrote.

* * *

"This is home," Buffy gestured to the apartment building.

All she got in response were a few slurping noises. Both girls and House were contentedly sucking on suckers. Suckers House had nicked as smoothly as Spike could, and handed them off to the new girls. The gesture had certainly earned him more than a few brownie points with Buffy.

Reaching out Buffy slipped her hand into his as she knocked sharply on Andrew's apartment door with the other.

It opened to show a brightly grinning Andrew in his hard-body apron and cow oven mitts. The nerd flung himself at Buffy, letting his body sag against the slayer.

"Buffy I missed you, House was _so_ mean to me he threatened to burn my collection and he wouldn't give back my Stargate DVDs. I missed you, and did you tell The Big D I said hey, I saw you on the news and everything you looked amazing well you know even though it was so sad."

Buffy's eyes widened as she wrapped her free arm around one of her best friends, "Andrew, Honey. Take a breath, no need to babble."

House prodded Andrew roughly in the side making the trekky start, "Let go or I'll hurt you so bad all your Soufflés will be flat."

Andrew immediately retracted. It was well known that Andrew got the shakes when he was scared. A shaky Andrew meant no delicious chocolate soufflés. It meant slightly burnt chocolate pancakes. It meant a sulking Buffy and while House could deal with her wrath, Andrew could not.

Buffy smiled contentedly, this was the life, "Andrew, I'd like you to meet Emmy and Melody."

House pushed the girls forward almost into the nerd. The pair of teens smiled nervously at their supposed roommate.

Andrew waved happily, his mitt flopping oddly, "Mi casa es su casa!"

Emmy started backwards and Melody worried her lip to keep from giggling.

House clapped a hand on Emmy's shoulder and mock whispered to the pair, "Don't worry, if you're not a wookie you're safe."

Andrew stood aside after glaring weakly at Greg. The two new slayers stepped into the apartment.

"I pulled the couch out so you guys can sleep there. Oh, and I made cookies!"

In Andrew's renewed excitement he had completely forgotten about the other two adults. House winked at Buffy before grabbing the door handle, "Night, night kids," he said before closing the door on the quaint little slumber party scene.

"Mmm, silence," a soft smile spread across Buffy's face and she leaned further into House's warmth.

Sliding the sucker out of his mouth House handed to the blonde woman to hold before turning to unlock their own apartment.

Buffy scowled at the sucker she had been given to watch, "Why'd you give the girls suckers?"

House rolled his eyes as he followed his girl into the apartment, "Revenge on Sir Geek-A-Lot."

Buffy chuckled involuntarily, she'd missed this, "Of course, it couldn't be because you actually like them. And just how long have you been waiting to use that moniker?"

Dropping down on to the couch, House pulled her next to him, "About a week and a half. And you're right, I don't like the pipsqueaks. I'm trying to get in good with their guardian. She's a gorgeous blonde seeing a league below her."

Leaning her head on Greg's shoulder Buffy grinned, "How's that going?"

"I'll let you know…after Wilson of course. Got to prove who's more manly."

Buffy nodded shifting slightly, "Mmm, I'm tired."

The warm glow from an ancient lamp from the corner House and Buffy sat cuddled on the couch.

Though her eyes were drifting closed, Greg's warm, gravelly voice coaxed her back to consciousness, "What do you need?"

Buffy shuddered for a moment and a few tears leaked down her cheeks, "No one has ever really asked me that."

Smiling to himself House tucked her head under his chin and stroked her side, "What happened?"

"They're all dead. I hate them, hated them. Oh god. But when everything is-was normal I thought about them. I loved them again in those moments. I kept wondering if maybe I could make everything okay again. But now, now they're dead. And I can't apologize for it all."

"They knew."

"I wonder where it all went wrong."

Scowling as he read between the very thin lines, House growled, "No. It wasn't you. All you ever did was what they asked, and they didn't realize how it was wearing on you."

Buffy's soundless tears had seeped through Greg's shirt. She sat up and patted the wet patch as she muttered an apology. He shrugged it off.

"Now you're never getting rid of me," Buffy said as she smiled wetly.

House rose to his feet with more grace than a cripple should have, "Wouldn't want to."

Buffy stood and followed House into their bedroom, her eyes lingering on different things, the guitars, the piano, stacks of mail, and the fertility statue next to their bed.

Unbuttoning his shirt House glanced at Buffy who was already curled under the sheets, "So who's this Damian guy and do I need to kick his ass?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and a goofy grin broke out on her face, "Moron."

The bed dipped as House slipped under the covers, "But you love me for it anyway."

"Yep, and don't think I didn't see the piles of laundry and the sink full of dirty dishes, young man." Buffy agreed as she snuggled up to tall, dark, handsome, and toasty warm.

"I love you too," House murmured as Buffy slipped into darkness.

_

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September 29

_th_

_Ch-ch-ch-err._ A small blonde head poked out from under dark covers. The room was still dark, despite her internal clock telling her it was nearly ten in the morning. Stretching an arm out Buffy patted the right side of the bed, empty.

"Babe, what are you doing," she called her voice muzzy.

A soft voice from the living room answered, "Nothing, go back to sleep, Honey. I have to go to work. Coffee is in the pot. I love you, don't forget you have lunch today, and come see me afterwards."

Turning off the printer, House limped into the bedroom. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to Buffy's head. She was already dead to the world again. It was a good thing he had written out his message and taped it to the coffee pot.

* * *

The nurse at the front desk giggled when House beamed at her on his way to the elevator. It was well known that Gregory House didn't smile—well until he met Buffy Summers that is. It had been a long few weeks of a grumpy, grousing, scowling Doctor House. By the time House was in the elevator a dozen nurses and Cuddy were aware of his pleasant mood.

_Bzzzt. Bzzzt._ House scrabbled in his jacket pocket for his phone and flicked it open. A text message. Normally he couldn't really stand the damn things, but Buffy got some leniency…okay a lot of leniency.

_**Have fun torturing the P.F.'s (Potential Fellows), Babe.**_

House grinned. He had needed a new nickname for his rag tag group. PF's it was at least for a little while. Couldn't have them feeling comfortable, now could he. Every single one of the fellows was sitting more or less attentively in the lecture hall. He slammed the door open and closed, a hidden smirk on his face when each of them jumped.

"Hmm, I didn't order you from slackers'r'us. Wake up!"

Rapping his cane along the row of desks, House made his way to the front of the room.

13 rolled her eyes and shifted noisily at his production. House frowned.

"We have no patient today."

Cutthroat stood up abruptly, "Fine, I'm going home then."

House snorted, "Sit down. Just because we don't have a patient doesn't mean you get to go home."

18 sighed, "So what, we're just going to sit here and what, play hangman?"

"No," Greg said pushing himself up to sit on the desk, "That would be stupid. You're going to be doing much more important."

No one spoke. House glanced at his phone before pulling a folded overhead sheet out of his pocket.

"No one? Alright, today is a scavenger hunt. Rules are as follows. Two teams, no loners, you must have a partner at all times. Since its five on five, one person from each team will remain at the hospital as relay only. Your team brings you an item you bring it to me. You must use public transportation trains or buses people. No cabs. You cannot spend money on any of the items or to get an item. You cannot use any of your own things. Each team gets two disposable cameras. Pick your teams. Oh, and when you inform on each other, you better have solid proof. I'll be in my office. Runners better inform me of teams."

House stood up and threw two envelopes down on the table next to four cameras. He stopped at the door, "Oh, and by the way, the winning team gets first whack at the patient next case."

* * *

House squinted at the cork board he had fixed to the wall across from his desk. His gaze shifted briefly to the door as he flicked his wrist and letting the dart fly. It landed with a _thunk_. Greg grinned triumphantly.

13, Team Daddy-O's runner quirked an eyebrow at him, "What'd he do to you?"

House pursed his lips for a moment and let his head fall to the side, "He killed my puppy."

His face was straight, but House's eyes were gleaming with satisfaction and glee. Damian Lothario, his fiancé's ex-boyfriend's face was peppered with darts. Drawing up another dart, House breathed deeply. This was the life.

* * *

Review please.


	7. Do You Really?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not Buffy or House sadly.  
A/N: I feel really awful…it seems like forever since my muse has obeyed me. As it is this chapter was extremely difficult to get out. All feedback welcome. Hopefully there will be more regular updates.

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September29th

"…listen to Andrew, unless he goes on a rampage regarding figurines," Buffy intoned to the girls.

Emmy and Melody giggled softly. They had quickly learned that their new roommate was more than a little goofy. He had ended up making them a rather extravagant breakfast-in-couch complete with fresh made scones and earl grey tea. Of course he had fluttered around and insulted their fashion sense and called them Padawans repeatedly.

It had taken Buffy skipping into the apartment with a basket full of laundry for Andrew to calm down. Trading laundry for slayerettes, Buffy sent Andrew on his way to the laundry room and she ordered the girls to stretch with her. To say the least, both girls had been grateful for the brief respite from Andrew.

"Okay," Andrew sighed as he finished folding Buff's clothing, "so what do you want us to do today?"

Buffy shrugged, "Why don't you teach the girls the basic vamp and demon rules and regulations and start teaching a few simple punches."

Andrew's face lit up like a disco ball, "Really, I get to teach them?"

"Yep, don't kill 'em."

Melody rolled her eyes, "Where's House?"

"Work. Unlike us slackers, he has a nine to five job—okay, more like eleven to four—with an hour and half for lunch."

Emmy frowned, "What do you do during the day?"

Andrew interrupted, "Usually she goes to control him. He can be very scary."

"I didn't think he was scary. He seemed nice."

Emmy's admission and Melody's nodded agreement caused Andrew's jaw to drop.

Buffy chuckled, "Alright, I have to go, so don't kill him girls, he feeds us."

With a one armed hug for each girl Buffy was out the door and in a cab. She didn't see the sense in driving when she would in all likelihood catch a ride back with Greg.

* * *

"Are you kidding," Allison grinned brightly, "I would love to!"

Chase chuckled as his girlfriend and one of his best friends hugged and squealed, "What about me?"

Buffy turned to him and tugged gently on a long lock of his blonde hair, "Well, I don't know how you'd look in a taupe halter dress…but if you want to."

Chase gulped, he knew Buffy had done crazier things than put a man in a dress, the day he met her was a testament to that.

"That's alright. I'm more than fine _not_ wearing a dress."

Cameron traded eye rolls with Buffy, "I can't believe it, you're getting married to House, and I get to be your maid of honor. Who else is going to be in the wedding party?"

Buffy thought for a moment, "Well, Lisa, and I was hoping that my two new charges, Emmy and Melody would. Otherwise I'd be a little short. House has, Wilson, Andrew, Chase, and Foreman."

Chases' eyes widened, "Whoa. I—I don't think he wants me there."

Buffy stuck her tongue out at the Aussie, "He does. Are you kidding me, he misses you three. He was all crotchety for weeks after you left. I had to threaten to move in with Andrew before he stopped. Trust me, just let me talk to him, and once Erik gets here everything will peachy."

Cameron smiled again and crossed her legs, "Foreman's coming back?"

"Lisa told me this morning, she arranged it so that he would be watching out for the new fellows—making sure Greg doesn't go crazy on them."

Chase sniffed and shifted in his pink scrubs. Allison had certainly been right. Chase looked positively yummy in them.

"Have you decided who's going to walk you down the aisle?"

Buffy stuck her tongue out at him, "Thought about it, kind of not thinking about it now. I mean the wedding is going to be during the day and I don't think I really want all my exes at the wedding. I mean Spike and Angel—I'd be asking for a massacre."

Allison snickered, "True."

"Speaking of," Chase said as he picked up his mug of coffee, "How are the girls?"

A happier topic, no wedding stress, "Good, they're good, annoying Andrew, so good. I hate to ask, but Allison would you mind doing their physicals?"

"Sure," she agreed quickly, "Just say when."

"Tomorrow? Then I have to find a school for them—mmm," Buffy whimpered.

Chase smothered his laughter but leaned over to embrace his small friend, "Hey, you can do it. You tamed the beast, the rest is cake."

Buffy chuckled at the statement, "Right, and if the beast hears you say that, even I won't be able to stop him."

* * *

Clandestine operations were hardly so amusing to Oncologists. But watching his best friend's fiancée go through his office, hop over the dividing wall on the balcony just to get to said best friend was more than a little amusing to James.

"Avoiding the trainees?"

Buffy pouted, "Yep, apparently he wants to be all mysterious and stuff."

"Give him a hickey. That should be enough of a mystery."

"Ooh, fun. So, how's life been?"

Wilson sighed, "Hell, and on that subject, have you decided when to meet the parents?"

"Nope," Buffy shrugged, "We're supposed to tell them eventually but he's just putting it off."

"Well this is House, and he and his Dad aren't exactly Saturday-ballgames-at-the-park material," Wilson reasoned, leaning back in his chair.

Buffy rolled her eyes knowingly, "But this important to me too. This will the first ever Buffy-parent-meeting event."

"Ever," his voice betrayed his shock.

Buffy whimpered, "Yeah."

"Huh."

Buffy pouted, "Well can you blame me? All but one of my long-term boyfriend's parents _were_ dead for a century or two before I came along."

"And the 'one'?"

"They were in Iowa, I think. Besides, I had no desire to really become Mrs. Finn the Cow Farmer. Buffy Finn just doesn't jive."

"And Buffy House does?"

Buffy scrunched her nose up, "Not hardly, but I can't find the effort to care. But seriously, House, totally not the best last name."

Wilson coughed, his eyes bugging out for a second, "Of course, I mean it couldn't be that your first name is Buffy."

Buffy's eyes snapped into slits, "That means war."

Before James could apologize let alone wince, Buffy had hopped the brick wall and slipped into House's office.

* * *

"Hey," a soft voice cut into Greg's thoughts.

An involuntary smile pulled at his lips and he kicked his desk to spin his chair round. There standing, framed in the sliding glass door, sunlight pouring in around her was the love of his life.

"Always with the head tilting and honey coated lips."

Buffy scrunched up her nose and darted past him to flip the locks on both doors and slide the blinds tightly closed. As an afterthought and a cheeky grin she flicked the light switch to off.

"Mmm, but you love me for it."

House rolled his eyes and set his tennis ball down on the paper covered desk, "I know, I'm a damned fool."

At his gesture to sit on his lap Buffy happily did so. She inhaled deeply as she nestled her head under his chin. He smiled like home. Not like the wet of England. He smiled like warm aftershave and something that was a mix of her vanilla and the hospital.

"So the latest in your long list of mischief is drinking at work."

Her voice was soft. From anyone else it would sound accusing.

"Hmm, Cuddy rat me out?"

"Who else?"

"I hope she drowns in a bucket of ferrets?"

Buffy chuckled and shook her head disbelievingly, "That is it, seriously. No more hanging out with Spike, Baby."

Greg's eyebrows inched upward, "Ah, but I learned my threatening imagery from you, Dearest."

Buffy clenched her eyes closed and stifled the groan, "So what are you doing today?"

Shifting beneath his burden, House nuzzled her, "Nothing."

"Uh-huh, so this amazingly diverse pile of junk on your desk…and floor is nothing."

"Pretty much," House surmised.

"So you wouldn't want to explain the receipt for 50 cents of gas or the list of safety tips from the fire department," Buffy questioned.

"I was bored?"

"Well, that does actually make a lot of sense in this case."

She continued to rifle through the odd papers and bric-a-brac, "Ooh, can I have this?"

House twisted until he could read the paper she held, "List of schools in the area? What for?"

"The two teens at home. You don't' want them to be educated by Andrew, do you? All we'll get of them will be Yoda-speak. 'Slayed we did. Yes, hmmm. Defeated we did, the green horned demons.'"

"Right, tomorrow then? You, me, a few traumatized principles?"

House's instant straightening had Buffy wiping tears from her eyes in laughter.

"Everything is piling up, isn't it?"

"Hmm," he asked.

"The wedding, Grunty-Man."

House's arms tightened around Buffy, "Cold feet?"

"Want to check," Buffy returned.

"Alright, then give me a clue."

"Okay," Buffy scooted down in his lap and sighed, "It starts with and Australian accent and ends in 'man'."

House pursed his lips, "Is this the intervention portion of our reunion?"

"Nope," Buffy ran her fingers down Greg's arm and twined her hand with his, "This is me trying to make everything good. I know where you live. I know you don't hate them. They're our friends. And if you don't call them and ask, then…well I don't know, but you won't like it."

House didn't respond to her threat, he needed small victories after all. Buffy allowed it.

"Remember how you told me I owed you something."

"Yep, is it present time?"

Buffy jumped out of the chair and pulled House up after her, "Close your eyes."

Buffy pouted, "Why?"

"Just do it," House rolled his eyes as he reached behind his chair.

Buffy let her head loll to the side as she placed one hand over eyes, "Okay, but if I turn around and you're naked…I won't be responsible…"

Buffy was cut off when a particularly fluffy, warm thing shrouded her shoulders, "Wha—"

House pulled her hand from her eyes and pulled her into the circle of his arms, "If I had known that office sex was a possibility…"

"Shut up before you need a shovel."

House tilted his head from side to side, apparently weighing the options. Settling for quiet and a stolen kiss or two instead of a round of banter, House leaned down and claimed her lips. Her lips were soft with a coconut covering where his were chapped and cracked. Buffy didn't mind if she had to wet his lips for him.

Pulling away from him Buffy sucked in a breath, her heart thudding in her ears, "So what was the mastermind plan behind the blanket?"

House shrugged as he adjusted the dark, soft blanket draped over her, "Nap-time. When I have to work, you can nap on the couch."

"Ah," Buffy smirked, "And if you happen to need a nap too?"

House's face contorted into an expression of pure bamboozlement and surprise, "I guess we'll have to find out…right now?"

Buffy smiled and the pair stumbled backwards onto the couch with a little maneuvering. House pulled the blanket around them until they were covered. Buffy pillowed her head against his chest, playing with a tuft of hair that hung below his ear.

"I could get used to this."

House smiled at the ceiling, "You know, there is still the option of office sex, just imagine how pissed Wilson would be."

Buffy rolled her eyes and squirmed like a kitten settling for a nap, "As hot as that gets me, I think not."

As House was about to respond, a frustrated knock came from the door, "House! Open the door! You can't do this!"

Buffy quirked an eyebrow, House just grumbled.

House scowled and yelled at the door, "Go away! It's nap-time, moron!"

A frustrated growl came from outside before a pair of footsteps retreated. Buffy bit her lip and mouthed the question, "Fellow."

House nodded and ran his hands up and down her side reaching lower each time. Buffy squeaked when a large warm hand came to rest on her butt and she ground against Greg in retaliation.

"Never mess with a slayer," Buffy reminded House.

House could only smirk. Surely he was the getting the better end of this deal.

* * *

A new chapter! Yay! Please review, some hints for upcoming chapters are some or 3 past Buffy characters. Any ideas who?


	8. Of the Coffee River of Stix

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not Buffy or House sadly.  
A/N: Thanks for all the feedback, it really cheers me up. Hope to hear from you all again, and hope you enjoy this chapter._

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September 29_th_

"It is time to see which team measures up, and which of you fails in epic proportions," House grinned predatorily.

The fellows were sitting more than a little damp, frustrated, and stiff. House was standing beside the desk surveying the potentials. They sat with their teams, the Twins, Old guy, cutthroat, and vet girl on one team, and Slutty, Plastic Man, Reckless Kutty, Boy Scout Brennan, and the black guy on the other.

Cutthroat scowled, "This is stupid."

House smirked, "What was that muttering, you want to get fired?"

"Oh, I just said that I like your tie—er—shirt, t-shirt."

"Right, until that phone rings, your fates hang in the balance. So don't piss me off."

After a few moments filled with halfhearted whispering and disapproving tongue clicks from House, the phone trilled sharply.

"Show time," House spread his fingers and shook his hands like he was Rocky himself.

A light musical voice filled the room, "Good afternoon Charlie."

"Good afternoon my angel."

"I have the…results," Buffy bit her lip as she sat in House's office, no laughing.

"Drum roll please," House gestured to the fellows and they belatedly obeyed.

"With 231 points, Four Chicks and a…Dick? Really, Greg?"

House was enjoying this far two much, between the eye rolling he knew was happening in his office and the scandalized looks of the fellows it was a shaping up to be a good day."

"Continue."

"The Beatles and Yoko with bonus points for Kutner kissing the town alderman—is that tongue!? He's like 80!"

House snorted, gave Kutner a little thumbs up.

Said fellow slunk down in his desk, "75," he muttered.

Buffy's shudder could be clearly heard over the phone, "Eww. I hope you have mouth-wash. Anyway—"

"What's the point of this," Amber exclaimed, throwing her hands down onto the desk with a smack.

House shrugged, "There isn't one."

Amber huffed, "There has to be."

"Well then clearly you missed it, and I'm not going to tell you," House smiled flippantly.

Kutner raised his hand hesitantly, "I think I know it…"

House's eyes widened in exasperation, "And that would be?"

Kutner's hand dropped and he shifted, "Well, was it to test our resourcefulness?"

"Was that a question I heard, house," Buffy asked perkily.

House frowned and put a finger to his lip and tapped, "Why yes, I think it was."

"Hmm," Buffy said shrewdly.

13 scowled and crossed her legs, "How does a scavenger—you know what, forget it."

"Never remembered," House shot back cheekily.

Amber snorted in disgust, "Can we cut the crap and get this done—send your floozy back to the street corner—her name is probably 'Crystal' or 'Meth'."

Greg inhaled sharply but kept his features smooth, the plan, remember the plan, "She is not some floozy, and her name actually is Angel."

"Yeah right," Amber scoffed.

House rolled his eyes, done with not being annoyed, "Shut up!"

Buffy giggled softly, "I can see why you nicknamed her Cutthroat Bitch—though she's not that cutthroat—more bitchy and uppity."

Amber's jaw dropped, "Go screw yourself!"

"Ooh, that's original," Buffy complimented her with a girl's best friend: sarcasm.

House rolled his eyes and silently laughed, "Back to the points…"

"Oh yeah, the-not-gross team won with 347 points," Buffy finished her announcement lamely.

House picked up his cane and pointed it at the door, "Everyone out, now!"

Buffy leaned back in House's chair, "There was no point was there."

"Nope," House allowed himself to grin as the door slammed shut.

"Bored," Buffy asked fondly.

"Yep. But Kutner's reason was good, wish I had thought of it."

"Aww," Buffy smirked, "You're so lucky I love you for your sexy body and not your mind, Babe."

House chuckled warmly, "I'll be up in a minute. I could use another nap."

"Cute, but you have an hour of clinic duty in twenty," Buffy chirped before hanging up the phone.

* * *

Buffy scowled, she had read the files—well she had perused—this century's version of perused that is. Every one of the potential fellows had their share of talents and drawbacks. There were a few based on the little challenge, and after the game finale…well Buffy had a few names on her list.

Scooping up said files on potentials, Buffy shuffled them into a random order and not in her ranking system before dropping them into the trash underneath House's desk. A crumpled sheet of paper caught between the desk and the can caught her eye. Messy boy—and of course that had to remind Buffy of the month long mess of House being a sorta-bachelor that was at home.

Sighing Buffy curled her fingers around the paper and began to straighten the page. Almost instantly the edges of her mouth curved upward. Only her man would play darts with a picture of her ex. Buffy finished smoothing the photograph of Damian out and left it lying on Greg's now clean desk.

Buffy stood up and smiled as House rapped against the door with his cane. Buffy slid out to meet him in the hallway.

"Hi," Buffy smiled sheepishly.

Greg's eyes narrowed, "What are you planning?"

"Who me? Nothing, absolutely nothing," her smile brightened alarmingly.

"And I believe that because…" House asked quirking his head to the side.

"You love me?"

House inhaled slowly, "Mmm, I don't know. But we can discuss this while I 'treat'," he finger quoted, "A bunch of morons."

Biting her lower lip impishly, Buffy fiddled with his fingers, "About that…"

House scowled playfully, "No plans, huh?"

"I don't have plans, I just have things to…do," there was the smile again, all innocence.

"This is one of those don't ask don't tell things right," House asked tilting his head back.

Buffy shrugged and groaned in an uncertain way, "More of a…deniable plausibility thing."

"Right-ho, and I'm off to…help…people," House muttered before limping away.

Buffy nearly cackled as she was left alone in the hall, "Vengeance, thy name is Buffy."

It had taken her a few friendly conversations until she had Wilson's schedule for the day and a promise to keep him away from his office for half an hour. 30 minutes, more than enough time for a little mischief and mayhem in the name of—well her name.

Getting into his office was all too easy—she had picked the janitor's pocket earlier and was now the proud holder of Wilson's office key. Oh, this prank war had been coming for a long time—well it hadn't actually been coming, it was more a lack of a prank war that had Buffy more than prepared.

Sinking down onto James' spinny-chair Buffy gave it a twirl before jerking herself to a stop and surveying the prospects. The pens, the perfect little prank, not enough to have him running to Cuddy, but enough to have James thoroughly frustrated.

It worked to Buffy's advantage that Wilson was more neat-freak than his best-friend. All of his pens were stored neatly in the jar on his desk, unlike Greg whose pens were scattered not unlike a game of 'I Spy'. Shaking her head to rid herself of the thought, Buffy began twisting each pen apart and making her own special modification. It didn't take long, and soon enough Buffy was locking Wilson's office behind her before literally hopping onto the elevator.

House would still be practicing his whole medical routine, so Buffy had some free time which wasn't really free time. Buffy whimpered to herself at the thought of the 'to do' list tucked into her pocket. Phone calls to be made, cleaning to be done, training to be started, and wedding plans to be gone over—not precisely the most fun-filled evening.

Tucking her legs up underneath her in a corner of the clinic waiting room Buffy sat unobtrusively. Clenching her eyes shut tiredly, Buffy slipped her phone open and started to dial phone numbers from the list of schools. She had to make appointments to meet principals for tomorrow.

45 minutes and 5 appointments into the phone calls a large, steaming mug of coffee was set down beside her and a quick kiss planted on the top of her head. Buffy smiled and murmured her thanks. One more reason she loved Greg, he anticipated her needs, no, he just always gave her what she needed but didn't necessarily ask for. It still tickled her pink and purple that the legendarily unemotional Doctor House had said 'I love you' first.

Lifting the cup to her mouth Buffy savored the slightly sweetened coffee. Two more phone calls and then she had to figure out some kind of training and school regimen for Emmy and Melody. Everything was starting to pile up. The wedding was about a month away, and everything was…well, less than finalized.

Though it was still early in the afternoon, not even five yet, House found Buffy slumped over several sheets of paper and multi colored pens and highlighters she had no doubt, filched from the nurses station. She was doing the thing with her head again. It was literally the cutest thing House would never tell anyone he thought cute…well except her. Buffy's head kept nuzzling against her own hand, almost like a kitten. It seemed that the coffee fix hadn't quite done its job.

Turning on his heel, House picked up the phone on the reception desk and dialed the correct number.

"Paging Doctor Chase, Robert Chase to the Clinic."

To his credit, Chase arrived promptly, "What's going on," he asked just short of frantically.

Then he spotted his former boss, "Oh."

"I need help," House's face was blank.

Chase's eyes snapped open, "Finally you admit it."

"No, moron," Greg rolled his eyes, "Buffy fell asleep and I don't want to wake her up."

Chase shook his head and put his hands on his hips, "I'm done for the day I'll take her home."

Greg nodded stiffly, and allowed the more able bodied man collect his girl. It was almost amusing watching Chase push a sleeping Buffy around in a wheelchair…almost.

"You got a tux," House asked as he stared at the glass wall in front of him.

Chase glanced back at the other man, "Yeah, why?"

Greg bit his cheek, cheeky bastard, "You know why."

Chase did know. This was about as close to being civil as House was going to be. Chase would take it.

* * *

"Your—she's—_evil!_" Wilson spluttered indignantly.

House rolled his eyes, "And this surprises you?"

Wilson returned the eye roll, "I—you don't understand. She was probably normal before she met you!"

A meaningful quirked eyebrow conveyed House's doubt in that assessment.

"Well, she probably wasn't this conniving," James amended.

Greg sighed, "What did she do to you?"

"All of my pens! All of them, pink and purple ink! She—all of my notes look like a twelve year old girls!"

The snort burst forth unbidden, "Finally! Now your handwriting matches your sensitive side."

"Damn it," Wilson grumbled, "It's not my fault her names is…hmph."

House plopped down in his chair and reached for his tennis ball. Before he could grab it something else caught his eye, a picture that House had thrown out earlier that morning. Just like her, House couldn't help but think. Only his Buffy would leave the evidence of his misbehavior for him to find. She knew how much House hated Damian. And the worst part of it was that knowing Buffy, well she probably thought the whole thing was damned cute.

"…stop being such an asshole. This is important to her too."

"What," House looked up at his best friend.

James scoffed and rubbed the back of his neck, "You—you haven't been paying attention this entire time!"

"If your voice keeps going up like that you'll be a falsetto in no time."

"God, would you just shut up and listen for once?!"

House squared his shoulders and set his jaw, a silent indicator that he would humor James.

"God help you if you screw this up, because I don't know what I'll do to you, but I know for damn sure, that no other woman will love the way that Buffy does."

House's cheek twitched, "Don't you think I know that?"

"Maybe I don't. Because if you did, you would have called your parents already, it doesn't matter how much you hate him, this is a big deal for Buffy."

Wilson was flushed, and he was fighting tooth and nail not to punch or kick something or someone. House was silent, staring past him.

"You know she won't ask, she's not like that, she loves you too much. And trust me, I'm still trying to convince her she's crazy," James spit out before rubbing a hand over his mouth.

Still Greg was silent, "I'm done. Goodnight."

* * *

It had taken Chase a few minutes to explain that he wasn't kidnapping the sleeping Buffy. Apparently Andrew had done a fair job at teaching Emmy and Melody the rules of surviving. Andrew had finally called off the dogs and Chase was allowed to settle a muzzy Buffy on the pulled out couch.

She smiled up at him, "Hi."

Chase chuckled softly and kissed her cheek, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"When we drop the girls off."

"Sleep, you're practically falling on your face. And by the way, he asked," Chase gave one last wave before closing the door behind himself.

Even through her sleep fog, Buffy understood what her friend had said and giggled happily. Almost ecstatically before Andrew thrust a mug of pitch black coffee in front of her.

* * *

Buffy froze as she stepped into the apartment, Greg was on the phone.

"I know I should have called earlier. I'd like you to come down and stay for a few days maybe this weekend."

There was a pause where House glanced up and saw Buffy leaning against the door. He gave her a half smile which was returned with a full out grin and a tiny raise of the eyebrow.

House gulped audibly, "Yeah, sure noon is fine…I have to go. Yeah, I love you too Mom."

House dropped the phone onto the cradle and licked his lips. Buffy pranced over to him as he sat on the chair and pulled him up, eyes glittering darkly.

"I think you deserve a reward," Buffy purred as she led him into the darkened bedroom.

As he was pushed down onto the bed and swiftly stripped House groaned, "I thought you were tired."

Heated skin was on heated skin and fingers moved with fury, "Andrew had coffee…and pixie sticks," Buffy panted as innocently as she could.

"Remind me to buy him a new comic book," House chuckled before claiming her mouth with a bruising kiss.

"Okay," Buffy muttered between kisses, "Hope…that…nap…helped…'cause…I'm wide…awake."

"I think I can handle you, Baby," House laughed low and deep.

"Oh goody," Buffy winked flirtatiously and ground down onto Greg. Let the games begin

* * *

Yay, hope you enjoyed, please review! Ta

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	9. Plaid, Molestation, and Other Things

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.

A/N: This might be the last update for a bit, I have finals this week and then I'm done for summer, so just a warning. P.S. Reviews would probably help me study---er, maybe.

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September 30

_th_

Buffy rolled over and contorted into different shapes under the soft sheets. Eyes slipping open a smile curled into place as she spotted Greg beside her. The tough guy was curled up and cuddling the blankets. The slayer slid out of the bed, careful not to disturb House. It wasn't that he would be upset at being woken, nope. He was just too damned cute to wake up.

Quickly pulling on her sweats, Buffy flipped the alarm clock off and pulled the blankets up around House. Damn he was precious. Shoes on, Buffy leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on the top of his shaggy head.

After carefully locking the apartment behind her, Buffy popped across the hall. Melody and Emmy were seated around the breakfast table giggling as Andrew flipped scones onto napkins next to three sack lunches.

Buffy quirked a perfect brow, "Wow, if I had known the service here was so good I wouldn't have moved out."

"Ooh," Andrew waved with his kitten mitt, "Great timing, Buffy. I just finished making scones for the ride."

"What kind?"

Andrew giggled softly, "Well we have Blueberry, blackberry, cinnamon, and your favorite! Chocolate!"

"Ooh, plate please," Buffy half begged as she dropped down onto a chair next to the girls.

"So what be the plan," Melody asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Docs and shots—okay not really you need physicals for school and what not. Cameron knows about the whole slayery thing though so no need to lie," Buffy rambled as she rolled her fingers against the table.

Melody's lip curled upward, "School!"

Buffy sighed, "Be thankful. I could leave you here with Andrew twenty-four-seven," she finished airily.

Emmy gasped softly, "I like school."

Melody nodded quickly, "School, love it. Wish I was there now."

Lips quivering, Andrew's eyes filled with tears, "I thought you liked me."

The two girls immediately performed what a bystander could only interpret as a very accurate imitation of two dear in headlights. Buffy covered her mouth to hide the smile.

"Alright you two, that's enough. We pick on Andrew enough as it is. Besides, its either staying here with Andrew or with House and I."

Emmy blushed furiously while Melody snickered.

"Thanks, I'll stick with comic-book-boy over here, I'm traumatized enough as it is. These walls are so not soundproof," Mel smirked.

Andrew cocked his head to the side, "That is true."

Buffy glared at all three of them, "That's it, in the car. You can spend your time getting stabbed with pokey things coming up with new insults."

* * *

Tiptoeing into the bedroom, Buffy slipped her sweats off and slid on a pair of stretchy shorts. Of course, standing topless in front of a sleeping House when she couldn't find her t-shirt was more than a little amusing. Oh how he would kick himself for not being awake if he knew. Settling finally for the one clean shirt left in her drawer Buffy slipped it on and froze.

Dingoes. Oz.

"Of course," Buffy couldn't help but grin.

Skipping out into the living room Buffy flipped her phone open and started dialing.

"Hello."

"Oz," Buffy couldn't help but giggle at his bored tone.

"Buffy. How are you?"

"Okay, you heard right?"

A deep sigh emanated from the other end of the line, "Yeah."

"Can I come up and see you tomorrow. I want to ask you something or two somethings," Buffy bit her lip.

"Yeah, we have a show tomorrow night, meet us at the house?"

"Of course, Oz, I've missed you."

"Same here, so I'll see you tomorrow. Dev'll be psyched."

Buffy grinned, "Yeah? Does he know I'm engaged?"

"Told him when he was six sheets gone, he still didn't take it well."

The laughed together about Devon's recent lack of dates and his increasing interest in Buffy, "I have to go, I'll be there, bells on. Bells on, weird phrase."

Hanging up Buffy slipped back into the bedroom and crawled up the bed until she rested gently on Greg's stomach. Stooping down, Buffy brushed her lips against his. Pulling back she watched him for any signs of waking. He slept on. Buffy licked her lips and bent forward and trailed kisses down one side of his neck onto his chest and back up the other side. When she reached his lips again, she teased them apart and swept her tongue inside. Nipping gently Buffy squeaked softly when a hand slid up her back, under her shirt.

Pulling out of reach, Buffy swung her leg over so she was sitting beside Greg instead of on him.

"Wakey, wakey, we have a busy morning."

Greg ran a hand through his mussed hair doing far more harm than good. Buffy giggled.

"Med-i-ta-tion."

House frowned but pulled himself up in bed until he was sitting against the headboard. Tipping his head over to rest on his shoulder, Greg looked carefully at the smiling blonde.

"Why is it, we never have naked meditation," he groaned.

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Because we would never get anything done, young man."

"Can't knock it 'til we try it," House smirked.

"Behave! Now close your eyes, and hold my hand, and breathe."

House tugged her hand into his palm and proceeded to partially obey. Instead of focusing on his breathing, he focused on hers, syncing up. Instead of clearing his mind, Greg traced gentle fingers across the back of her hand, concentrating on their joined hands. Well he had the eyes closed bit right.

After Buffy's success with helping others heal in the past year, Buffy had approached House with the idea of trying to lessen his leg pain. Incredulous was, of course his first instinct, but he had come around to at least trying. Besides, he knew that if he wanted anything from her he had to try. And House didn't want, he needed.

* * *

Once the tingly warmth had faded, House opened his eyes only to see a naked Buffy flounce into the bathroom. As fast as he could, House scrambled off the bed and walked to the bathroom as he stripped haphazardly. The shower was going and Buffy was already half soaked as she stood behind the curtain.

"Do you plan to stand there all day, because we do have meetings today," she teased.

"Minx," House hissed.

In a few short steps Buffy found herself in quite the predicament. Bare flesh pressed against bare flesh and a wonderfully cheek tucked against her neck. She squirmed as he tickled her as his fingers trailed across her body.

"Cheating," she moaned.

"Hmhm," he laughed, "You'll live."

She licked her lips, "That's what you say," she gasped as his fingers dipped far lower crossing the danger line.

* * *

Sitting in the waiting room at the first high school, Buffy frowned at the place. She really hated schools—okay, maybe she was a bit biased. But there was a good reason, a very, very good reason. They usually had hellmouths beneath them.

Tipping her head to the side, Buffy tried to peer inside the office. She winced when she got a clear view.

Turning to Greg she pulled him up, "We're going."

"Why," he asked slowly.

"The principal is evil," she replied innocently.

"Run that past me one more time."

"He's wearing an entirely plaid suit, with his silver tie around his head!"

House shot out of his chair, "Evil," he confirmed as if that said everything.

Giggling to themselves House and Buffy ducked out the door and moved as quickly as they could to the car.

Buffy slumped down in the passenger seat, one hand resting on Greg's leg, "Oh God. Hopefully we have better luck at the next six."

And they did. Of course it was pretty normal. The principals had semi-good fashion sense, the classes seemed normal enough—no Murder 101, or Frankensteining for Dummies—the students seemed normal enough. No invisible girls at least.

Driving back to the hospital, Buffy was singing along to the radio and car dancing erratically.

House snorted, "You look like your having a seizure."

Pausing, Buffy stuck her tongue out then smiled brightly, "Then it's a good thing you're a doctor."

"Right," he clicked his tongue, "So how are we going to pick the school?"

"I dunno, I figured we could just do it 52 pick-up style, except with six instead of 52. Ooh, or we could through them down the hospital stairs and whichever flies farther is the winner."

House shrugged, "No top hat?"

"Aww, bunny rabbit!"

"So we'll discuss this later?"

"Yep," Buffy popped the 'p' for good measure. "Now we should probably go make sure that the hospital is still standing, and Chase is…unmolested."

Greg winced, "We did sic three teenage girls on him. And he does have a bad habit of kissing underage females."

Buffy's jaw dropped and she tapped him on the stomach, "Stop that, you like Andrew, and it isn't Chase's fault he's highly edible."

Wincing House shrugged, "No, I tolerate him, for you baby, and I better be the only one you're thinking about eating."

Smiling, the blonde leaned over in her seat and pressed her lips against his cheek ignoring his last comment, "You big softie. But hey, I love you anyway."

"You say that now, but the minute I start crying during _Serendipity_ you'll be gone."

"Ooh, is that the plan for tonight. Chick flick and cuddling," Buffy asked sweetly.

"Just cuddling," he pouted.

"Apparently the walls are really thin."

House winked at her saucily, "Or maybe I'm just really good."

Tiredly, Buffy sighed, "Not the first time I've heard that one, Darling."

As soon as they arrived at the hospital all flirtatious conversation was ceased and a quick text message was sent to Andrew. Soon enough, the three 'charges' piled into the backseat, Andrew squished in the middle of the girls. Buffy looked as though she wanted to say something but clearly thought better of it and just asked how the day went.

Surprisingly it was rather shy Emmy who spoke first, "Lisa is _so _nice, she wanted to know if she could take Mel and me out for lunch on Sunday. Can we please?"

Buffy lowered her head to hide her laughter, "Sure, you can call her later."

Melody, who was as eager about lunch as Em was a bit more excited about something else, "He's pretty."

Greg whimpered and playfully banged his head against the steering wheel prompting Buffy to lean over and give him a tight hug, "Aww, poor baby."

"Who did I piss off that made every single woman love Chase?!"

"Vengeance demon," Andrew and Buffy chimed together.

House narrowed his eyes at the other male in the rearview mirror, "Shut up, or I find a new home for Hans—and there will be no coming back from where he's going."

"Shutting up," Andrew complied in a high, squeaky voice.

"Drive," Buffy commanded, not wanting to start Star Wars World War III.

Halfway home in relative silence was broken by paper rustling in the back seat and three people cooing.

"I might regret asking, but what is going on back there," Buffy slumped down in her seat—this could be one more thing Andrew and apparently Emmy and Melody were no longer aloud to do.

She yelped softly when a magazine was shoved in front of her nose, "That isn't what I think it is, is it?"

Ignoring the plea in her voice Andrew just giggled, "Doctor Wilson gave them to us, isn't this great!"

It was Buffy's turn to slam her head against the dashboard as Greg chuckled and rubbed her shoulder.

"Doesn't he know these things are forbidden at home, for precisely this reason," Buffy whined pathetically.

All her fiancé could do was chuckle, "That's probably exactly why he did it. Or have you forgotten the little accident his pens had."

Buffy frowned, "Just because his pens realized they were gay doesn't mean he should take it out on me!"

* * *

Upon arriving home, Buffy had pouted and stormed off to be alone in their bedroom, leaving Greg with his piano and three detailed lists with three very troublesome people across the hall.

After an hour of muffled curses and light thumps the bedroom door opened upon a slightly flushed slayer. Pausing in the middle of the song he was playing, Greg, smiled sweetly until he realized what she had been doing in there.

"You cleaned!" He moaned, "I spent the better part of four weeks building up that squalor."

Buffy's bad mood disappeared in a flash, "And just think, you'll get to do it all over again. And do I even want to know why there was a bowl of, oh lets see, A banana, a carrot, a cucumber, a fig, a pomegranate, a peach, a pair of tiny bean like things, a mushroom and a bunch of flowers beneath the bed? 'Cause something tells me, I'm gonna love this explanation."

"Hmm," House wavered, "I'm going to have to plead the fifth on this one."

"Buster, that just ain't going to fly," Buffy frowned putting the bowl down on the table and her hands on her hips.

He froze before looking at his imaginary watch, "Oh, look at the time, we better get over to Andrew's or the food will all be gone."

Faster than a cripple should be able to move, Greg was out of the apartment and 'safely' inside the one across the hall.

* * *

After a ceasefire, meditation, and a huge family style dinner—garlic bread included, Buffy and House left Andrew, Emmy, and Melody to their own devices while they went home. House did the honors of popping the popcorn, while Buffy grabbed fresh blankets to cuddle with.

Movie night was just one of those things she missed. Especially since Buffy wasn't going to get to see Greg until the day after next. Suffice to say when she let that news slip he had pouted for a full twenty minutes until Buffy had kissed it 'better' and promised to make it up to him when she got home.

Blackmail plain and simple, but it was a two way street and it was just how they operated.

* * *

Once again Buffy woke before Greg and spent a good half and hour just lying there and stealing his body heat before she got up and packed. He was still sound asleep when she locked up behind her, tacked a note to Andrew's door, and fired up the SUV outside.

Two hours and half a dozen detours later Buffy pulled into an alleyway next to a tall brick house. Steeling herself, Buffy rapped on the door which was quickly answered by a very chipper, and only half clothed Devon.

"Buffy," he exclaimed before turning around to yell into the house, "We have company so cover yourselves!"

"Late night orgy," Buffy asked knowingly as Devon led her into the living room.

"Totally," Devon smirked attempting sexy but only achieving cheesy.

"She knows about your involuntary celibacy, Dev," Oz said as he bounded down the stairs.

* * *

Yay! Devon and Oz yay! Hehe, so reviews please, they be like the sugar stuffs.


	10. Threesomes and Moresomes

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.

A/N: Well this chapter was put off because my father kind of fell through the ceiling of our garage from the attic. So I've been busy trying to help him out.

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October 1

_st_

Devon sighed heavily, shoulders slumping, "It's awful, I'm turning into Oz."

"You mean you're getting hotter," Buffy smiled innocently.

"Hey my mojo's all off," the lead singer defended.

"Aww," Buffy fussed at him, "Do you need a hug?"

His lip quivered, "Yes."

Buffy snickered softly and opened her arms to the much taller, half naked man who launched himself into them.

Jackson, the Dingoes drummer, rolled off the couch and laughed happily, "Group hug!"

The three hugged while Oz laughed silently on the sidelines. Buffy pulled back after a minute and counted the boys off.

"Wait a minute, we're missing a Dingo. Where's Rowley?"

Multiple blank looks were exchanged with a heavy dose of nervous laughter.

Oz's eyebrows rose upward, "What did happened after I went to bed last night?"

Jackson and Devon snickered, but Buffy suspected that they didn't quite remember what happened themselves. A heavy banging stopped everyone in their tracks. Buffy stepped in front of the hall closet having creepy flashbacks to the freshman year Halloween party. Swinging the door open carefully, Buffy was presented with a duct taped Rowley who smiled up at her as if nothing was the matter.

"Hey Rowley, how's it going," she asked slowly.

"Good, I'm hanging in there," he shrugged.

Buffy frowned and then looked at the apparently guilty pair, "So, how'd this happen?"

Rowley grunted as he tried to roll over, "Not really sure."

"Right," Buffy dismissed it and walked past the guys and into the kitchen, "Oz, can I you know talk to you without the three stooges?"

Oz snorted softly and directed the boys to go on upstairs and watch cartoons.

"What's going on Buffy?"

"I'm trying to train two baby slayers, and I would totally understand if you didn't want any part of it, but I'd pay you really well, and I miss you, and would you move to New Jersey and help me?"

A soft smile curved his lips, "It's good to know you can still ramble with the best."

"Are you going to make me go all repeat-o-girl?"

"No."

Buffy's lower lip jutted out, "No to repeat-o-girl or no to coming home with me?"

"Did House agree to letting you bring home a stray," Oz asked in all seriousness.

Chuckling, Buffy nodded, "Yep, but I was kinda hoping I would get to bring home four."

"We want to go," three voices yelled from the top of the stairs.

Buffy and Oz broke down in quiet laughter, children, they were children.

"I guess that means we have to pack all of this shit up," Oz observed.

"I have one more tiny thing to ask you," Buffy wheedled.

"What is it?"

"You're my best-friend Oz, I've known you since before, and you've seen the best and the worst of me, and so I would really, really love it if you would give me away at the wedding," Buffy bit her lip, praying he would agree.

"As long as I don't have to duke it out with Andrew. Have you seen his nails," Oz chuckled.

"I know, he got into a hissy fit with—wait, you mean you'll do it," Buffy half squealed before moving across the distance and hugging the werewolf tightly.

"Yeah, it falls to me to threaten the guy with a shovel if he hurts you, so I should meet him," Oz stated simply.

"You're awful, those three are a terrible influence on you," Buffy attempted to keep her face straight.

On cue the three boys yelled at her, "No we aren't!"

Buffy cocked her head to the side, picked up a hacky-sack from the table and launched it at the swinging door. There were three instantaneous yelps as the door swung outward.

"So you boys aren't, say right outside the door, I don't know eavesdropping?"

"No," Devon scoffed indignantly," Dammit."

"Okay, well, when and where is tonight's gig," Buffy asked the non-eavesdroppers.

"Seven-thirty at The Rum Monkey," Rowley volunteered.

Two slaps immediately followed the answer.

Buffy rolled her eyes and stood up, "I have an errand to run, Oz, but I'll see you tonight."

Oz rose as well and pulled his old friend into a tight hug, wolf and slayer both purring happily, "Cool. I'd better get those three to start packing. God knows they won't do it if I don't stand over them with a whip."

"No taser?"

The wolf hissed, "No, after the whole 'Don't tase me bro' incident, Devon hasn't been able to not say that when tasers come up in conversation."

"Don't tase me bro," came Devon's ill surfer accented exclamation.

If Oz wasn't always so stoic, one would have expected him to start banging his head against the wall. He refrained, if only barely.

* * *

Buffy smiled at the nurse as she closed the door behind her. Buffy sniffed softly, seeing Faith lying on the crisp white sheets was a stark reminder of so many years ago. The bruises that on the other slayer's face were fading to sickly yellow, and the bandages were tapped sporadically across her flesh.

"I brought you your favorite," Buffy tipped a coffee cup at the younger girl, "Black coffee and Irish Cream."

Setting the cup on the bedside table, Buffy sipped her own identical coffee mixture. It was something she and Faith had bonded over in the days after the Sunnydale Collapse.

"Faith, you survived. There are only four of us now. Four slayers instead of a hundred and some-odd. Melody reminds me of you. She likes to mouth off to Andrew. Emmy's, Emmy is quiet. She's entirely different from the both of us. House stole them lollipops from the clinic the day he met them.

"God, don't tell him but he's so good with kids. There was this baby in the clinic a while back and he was making her laugh. I'm going soft, I know."

Buffy sighed and reached out to smooth Faith's dark hair back behind her ears. She was so pale and the circles under her eyes were so dark. Buffy couldn't help but giggle at how soft Faith looked while she was…asleep, and how much she would hate being seen this way.

After a few minutes Buffy rolled her eyes and pulled out a little black zip up bag. While Faith was in a coma, Buffy was going to have her fun. She couldn't think that Faith wouldn't wake up. That wasn't an option.

It took quite a bit of dexterity to not jostle Faith as Buffy put her long, thick hair into twin braids on either side of her head. That done Buffy swiped on some super moisturizing clear lip gloss. What most people forgot about Buffy and Faith, was their rather ill-timed body-swap. Faith had gotten to jump into a nicely toned body, while Buffy had slipped into a coma ravaged body. So the cracking lips and stiff limbs were not so pleasant as Buffy well knew, and she wasn't going to let Faith suffer.

Okay Buffy was being irrational, she knew it. But it was a comfort to go through the routine of primping Faith and chattering about everything in life and love. By the time Buffy left Faith's nails were painted with a nutrient clear polish and she had set up therapists to stretch and work out Faith every other day. Doing that for her sister made Buffy feel just a little less guilty.

Leaning down for one last kiss on Faith's forehead, Buffy let a few tears fall, "I need you to wake up Faith, I need my sister back. I miss you so much already. Please wake up, I want you to be there when I get married."

_

* * *

_

October 2

_nd_

It was just past two in the morning when Buffy turned the engine of the car off. Slumping forward tiredly Buffy groaned and stumbled out of the car, up the stairs and only barely into her apartment. Sure slayers didn't need much sleep, but for some reason driving had always lulled Buffy into a sleepy state.

Shedding shoes, jeans, and t-shirt as she went, Buffy slipped into bed wearing only her underwear. She shivered and scooted closer to the warm lump on the right side of the bed. A low chuckle issued from the mound of blankets when Buffy tucked herself under Greg's arm.

"Missed you," Buffy muttered as she snuggled in for a few hours shut-eye.

"I was worried you wouldn't come back to me, Devilled-Eggs or whatever would chain you up in his closet," House smiled as he turned slightly so he could kiss the top of his girl's head.

"Nah, the only one who'll be chaining me up is lying next to me," Buffy laughed deliriously.

Buffy could feel House shaking his head and pulling the covers up around her, "Sleep, Sweetheart, you need it."

Buffy pouted, "Fine. I love you."

"Love you too," House murmured but Buffy was already blissfully unconscious.

* * *

Sun showers, the PTB's cruel joke. Well on the vamps that is. Not dark enough to run around like normal storms. To say it pissed off vamps was an understatement. To say it pleased Buffy to no end was also an understatement.

Buffy was happily curled up on the couch in the living room with a blanket draped over her and a mug of hot cocoa in her hand. Sitting on the floor around the coffee table were Emmy and Melody.

"Okay, so Lisa taught you the basic first aid stuff, right," Buffy questioned as she blew gently on her cocoa.

Emmy nodded happily, "So what are we doing today?"

"Whittling."

"Whittling," Melody repeated with a heavy dose of skepticism.

"Whittling," Buffy confirmed, "Before you can use a stake, you have to make a stake—ooh, steak."

Emmy picked up the former chair leg, "When are we going to be using our stakes?"

Buffy shrugged dismissively, "Tonight."

"What!" Melody shot off the floor and then proceeded to do a little victory dance, "Who's a slayer, oh-yeah!"

Emmy giggled softly before surprisingly whacking Mel with a pillow. Buffy giggled along with the girls. She was finally starting to really understand the girls. Melody was a mixture of Faith and Buffy herself—peppy and loud, while Emmy was soft spoken in front of strangers but she got braver once she was familiar with a person.

Flopping onto the couch Mel moaned, "Speaking of whittling, where's Sir GeekDom?"

"Thursdays are sacred to Andrew," Buffy told the girls, "He tries to get a new record on all of his Star Wars games."

Emmy's eyes went wide, "_Every _Thursday!"

"Since high school," Buffy qualified.

Melody tugged on lock of her own red hair, "How bad of me would it be to hide his games next week?"

"No!" Buffy whimpered before swallowing ashamedly, "He feeds me. I can't live without his After-Slay-Cocoa-Butter-Brownies!"

Melody exchanged an alarmed glance with Emmy before both slayers picked up their knives and started to carve away at their soon to be stakes.

* * *

Andrew, Emmy, and Melody decked out with their hand-made stakes were arguing vehemently about the best weapon to kill a Chaos demon.

"Axe," Melody growled at Andrew, "There is no way I'd slit it's throat."

Andrew stuck his tongue out in true fashion, "Well you just wasted an entirely good axe."

Emmy's nose wrinkled in disgust, "Why not use a crossbow? No close range contact and all that's sacrificed is an arrow."

Mel shook her head, "What if you miss?"

In the front seat Buffy sighed, "I don't weather I should proud or concerned that they're arguing over how to kill demons."

House quirked an eyebrow, "Why not try a mixture?"

"Yeah well the scythe kicks any weapons but!" Andrew's exclamation made both adults wince.

Twisting his head to the side, House gave one sharp blow of the horn stopping all argument in the backseat, "If you three don't stop arguing, I'll turn this car around and there will be no demon killing for any of you," he threatened.

Silence filled the car, House sighed happily.

"So Oz got in earlier?"

"Yep," Buffy answered him, "He's going apartment hunting tomorrow."

There was a mumble from the backseat before Andrew whimpered angrily, "I still say scythe triumphs. I bet Obi Wan would use a scythe."

"Don't make me turn this car around," House threw into the backseat again as he pulled to a stop at the graveyard entrance.

"Everyone out," Buffy commanded as she hopped out of the passenger side and skipped around to House's window.

Buffy leaned in thru the window and kissed Greg quite nicely, "Remember when you first asked me out? It was right past that mausoleum."

He chuckled, "Right after you helped me and the kids dig up a corpse. Good times, I should the newbies dig up a corpse too, it's good bonding activity."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Hmm, a man after my own heart."

Her finger had crawled upward to trace patterns on the Good Doctor's chest.

House smirked, "Don't be out too late."

"Do I have a curfew now," Buffy asked pertly.

Greg grabbed the trailing fingers and held them in place, "You will if you keep doing that."

Buffy winked before backing up and swinging the scythe up onto her shoulder, "All right kids, let's go kill some bad guys."

* * *

House watched as Andrew's door closed and he and Buffy were left in the hall alone.

"How was the slaughter, the kids sounded happy," Greg pulled their connected hands up and forced the slayer in a little spin making she was all in one piece.

"The entire time we weren't hunting which was like ninety percent of the time the three of them were obsessed with planning _our _wedding," Buffy pouted as House led her into their apartment.

Not two feet into the room Buffy hit a road block. She stumbled before bracing herself against the couch and glaring down at the offending objects.

"Remind me to kill Wilson. He brought this madness into my house, why did he have to give those three bridal magazines. No, no, I'm not going to kill him, killing him would be a mercy. No, I'm going to drive him so insane that Dru will sound amazingly coherent compared to him."

House chuckled and walked up behind Buffy. Looping his arms around her slim waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, House rocked gently from side to side.

"Bed," House asked as he gently steered her towards the bedroom.

"Bed. Only two vamps, I got one and the second got triple-teamed."

The smirk against her shoulder was warning enough for Buffy, "So you're not worn out?"

"Nope," Buffy pulled away from Greg and bounced onto her side of the bed, picking up her steno pad and her favorite purple pen.

Pulling her knees up, Buffy tucked her toes under the sheets as she started to scribble on the paper pad. She didn't look up until lips on her neck made her moan and her pen was tugged unceremoniously out of her grip.

"I need attention," House pouted.

The blonde chuckled mutely and closed her eyes, "I'm sure you do."

"Put down the list," he instructed.

"Can't," she countered, "Guest list."

"Screw it," House smirked and tugged the booklet out of her hands, "Better yet, screw me!"

Buffy inhaled deeply, trying to keep her face absolutely straight, "As good as that sounds, I'm busy, Babe."

House's lower lip pushed out and he went back to nuzzling at Buffy's neck. If Buffy wasn't having miniature panic attacks about their upcoming nuptials, she would have been in a much more playful mood.

"Ach," Buffy growled before she turned her glare on House, "Stop."

"You know," he whispered roughly, "I'm starting to thing this whole wedding thing is coming back to bite me in the ass."

"Out! Out, now! Go, run, go to Wilson's. I swear if you don't go now, there won't be enough of you to drag down the aisle," Buffy snarled at House.

A hasty retreat was beat by Greg with keys to the bike and plans to not return until beckoned.

"I thought this was supposed to happen after we were married," Greg called back to her smiling all the while as he closed the door.

"Wes, Fred, Gunn, umm, oh, Rowley, Devon, Jackson, hospital people, and…," Buffy rattled as she wrote the names down.

* * *

_October 3rd_

Panting, it wasn't a curious sound to hear coming from his apartment, but House was usually involved in the panting. Nudging the door open with his foot, House was seized by the smell of red meat and chocolate, and then by the sight of Buffy and who House guessed was Oz. They were seated across from each other at the coffee table, hands interlocked and exchanging heated glances.

House dropped his cane on onto the side table, "Arm wrestling? Really?"

Buffy shot out of her seat and stood between the pair, "Greg, this is Oz, Oz, this is Greg."

The standard male posturing took effect and Oz and House attempted to out monosyllabic each other. After a quick hug between the old friends Oz left and Buffy pushed Greg towards the bathroom.

"Shower, get dressed, something nice please. Your parents are supposed to be here in half an hour," Buffy kissed him quickly on the cheek before rushing into the kitchen to check on dinner.

* * *

House walked out of the bedroom just as the doorbell rang. Buffy was already in a little burgundy chiffon cocktail dress.

Kissing the top of her head Greg fiddled with his tie, "Beautiful."

Buffy gave him a nervous smile before straightening his tie before giving him a push in the right direction, "Go get the door."

House pasted on one of his fake smiles, one of the ones he used during clinic hours as he pulled the door open.

"Mom, Dad, come in, please," Buffy restrained her laughter at Greg's sarcasm.

Gods Buffy hoped this would go well, I mean the worst that could happen would be hordes of demons descending during dinner and Andrew having a meltdown…oh god, a lot could go wrong tonight.

* * *

Thanks for all of the reviews, hope to see more. Hehe, next up the infamous meet the parents chapter. Mwahaha.


	11. Murphy and Sparring

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and concern. Hmm, I've been slightly obsessed with watching NCIS—it's not my fault its addictive. Hehe.

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* * *

_

October 3rd

Smile fixed in place Greg waited for his parents to step into the room, his mother whom he was quite fond of and his father who most days didn't qualify for the title in House's book. In an attempt to avoid any direct conversations House glanced around his own apartment. The clutter he had proudly accumulated had disappeared over night, and instead of the musky book smell the room was filled with a strong vanilla cinnamon aroma. He grinned stupidly to himself, only Buffy could get away with this sort of makeover.

"Ow," House winced when a light slap to the back of his head was administered by Buffy herself.

She rolled her eyes at him, "If you want to be a drama queen you can go across the hall. Take their coats."

He smiled something closer to a genuine grin and took their coats, "Mom, Dad."

"Hello dear, so this is her," his mother asked brightly.

House sighed at the ground, "Mhm, Buffy these are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is Buffy, my fiancée."

"Call me John and that's Blythe," Greg's father extended a hand.

Buffy grasped it with a smile, "It's nice to meet you."

John chuckled, "Nice strong handshake, I like that in a woman."

Buffy blushed lightly and then stepped further into the room, "Would you like something to drink?"

Blythe shook her head, "We're fine dear, now tell me about you."

Buffy's eyes widened with a tinge of fear as Blythe led her to sit down on the couch. John rolled his eyes at his wife before patting his son on the shoulder.

"Better save your girl from the Mother Wolf."

Despite his strained relationship with his father, the man had a point.

"So how did you meet Greg," Blythe was still smiling.

House plopped down on the arm chair, "Wilson introduced us."

John quirked an eyebrow, "So why are you engaged to this lump and not James?"

"Too clean-cut-pretty-boy for me," Buffy smirked at Greg.

The snort of laughter seemed to be an agreement from Greg, "The boy-scout wouldn't be able to handle you."

Buffy narrowed her eyes playfully, "And you can?"

"Didn't say that," Greg answered quickly.

Blythe giggled happily, "Oh Greg, she'll keep you on your toes."

"She tends to keep everyone on their toes," he replied.

"So why didn't you tell me about your new babe sooner," John questioned.

"Things have been busy," House answered without his usual snark.

Buffy rolled her eyes and rose to go back to the kitchen, "I have to check on dinner."

"Let me help, dear," insisted Blythe.

Smiling sweetly Buffy nodded her head, "Okay. We have meatloaf, mashed potatoes, corn, and bread. Oh, and salad."

Blythe chattered amicably though what really made Buffy happy was John's crowing laughter about good comfort food.

* * *

"Eat your corn," Buffy scolded Greg.

He stuck his tongue out ignoring that his parents were watching the byplay with more than interest.

"But its healthy food," he complained.

"Then I'll just have your desert along with mine," Buffy retorted.

"What's desert," Greg asked.

"Chocolate mousse."

"Give me the corn," he ordered.

Buffy shrugged and handed him the bowl before turning back to Blythe and John.

"So when's the big day," Blythe broke the comfortable silence.

"The thirty-first of this month," Buffy answered.

"Halloween," John asked a little incredulously.

Again Buffy blushed. The idea behind the date had come from the whole anti-Halloween feelings the supernatural world had about the day. Buffy and House figured that it would be the least likely day to be struck by lightning, well now that she didn't live on a Hellmouth.

"Inside joke," House provided dispelling any awkward questions.

John chewed on a bite of meatloaf before setting his fork down and watching Buffy closely, "Military?"

She followed his eyes to the picture frame of Buffy and Riley's squad dressed in army greens, on the wall in the living room, "Not really. I was attached to a project for a period of time."

"Civilian contractor?"

Buffy nodded, "Of sorts."

"And Greg puts up with that. He doesn't like the military," John spoke bluntly.

Buffy chuckled dryly, "I know. He can't change my past and I can't change his so why worry about it."

She didn't miss House rolling his eyes, "Yeah, except when Captain Cardboard calls you up needing backup in Guatemala, then I really wish he would've gotten a hematoma from that book."

Blythe reached across the space to gently slap her son's arm, "Oh behave."

John was still focused on Buffy, "You get that call often?"

"Every once in a black moon, I don't mind though. It can be a bit of fun watching the boys trip over themselves during field training."

"You do training, aren't you a bit young for that," he questioned still being 'friendly'.

"Sometimes."

"Classified?"

"And then some," Buffy responded happily.

"Where were you stationed," John asked moving back towards less tense questions.

"Small town in California, I knew it like the back of my hand," Buffy fired back.

John smirked slightly, "Most exhilarating moment—sterilize it if you must."

"Underground tunnels tracking these two, thugs, and my weapon—it was like a super-taser—was faulty. I had to electrocute the pair of them or be toast myself."

The warm chuckle wasn't quite what she expected, "Ah, what I would give to be young again. Lot of adventures I wish I'd had. I'll say it again Son, you're damned lucky to have Buffy."

"Oh I know it. Especially after meeting two of her exes," Greg conceded.

Buffy rolled her eyes before glaring playfully at her man, "You and Spike get along better than I would like young man."

"Spike," Blythe questioned as she watched Greg being taken to heel.

"Nickname, he's got spiky hair, refuses to change it—his real name is William," Buffy explained. "The pair of them are a whole barrel full of trouble."

"It's not my fault we both like to antagonize the Sea-Monkey," House whined.

"Family," Blythe asked.

"Ah, no. Well sort of. He's as close to family as I have."

House grumbled something before taking a long draught of his beer, "If he's even human."

"My Mom passed when I was—20 and my baby Sister was, um, killed in a bombing just about a week ago," Buffy's own words sunk in, tonight just before midnight would make it a week.

It seemed like so much longer. So much had happened. Buffy felt a little guilty for not being more broken up about all the death that had happened. Shaking herself she turned back to her future in-laws.

John patted her hand, "You're a strong one."

Blythe was a little teary eyed, "I'm so sorry dear."

"It's all right. I'd already lost her. She resented me for living when our mom didn't. Haven't a clue where my father is so I just kind of adopt people into the family."

House's foot inched up her calf in a comforting gesture she smiled softly at him thanks shining in her eyes.

"Well now you have a family, dear. And what about children," Blythe asked sweetly.

Loaded question. Buffy smirked, she was evil deep down inside, kind of like Angelus—she just couldn't resist it.

"I have three already," she responded with a grin.

House snorted while his parents were in what he could only guess was extreme shock. After a moment Buffy smiled and tapped him lightly on the chest.

"Our little joke," She smiled laughingly, "I'm the legal guardian of two teenagers and one of my best friends—Sea-Monkey—has the emotional maturity of a teenager."

John joined in the laughter, "How'd that happen?"

"The company I work for has a school attached to it. I'm to teach the girls self defense before they go back to England."

John frowned, "You aren't part of that company that got blown to bits on the 25th, are you?"

Buffy nodded, "The one and only."

John nodded in understanding, "So, do you want kids?"

"Yeah, I do," Buffy responded happy to be off the more serious subjects.

"Good luck convincing my Son," John hooked a thumb at the younger man, "Never liked the tykes."

Buffy covered her mouth as she giggled helplessly, "Oh really. Well he doesn't know I know, but every morning before he goes to work he rubs the head of this fertility statue I inherited."

"Hey," Greg yelped at being found out.

Buffy just quirked an eyebrow at him, he sighed and started to help clean up the dinner table. Blythe and John spent the time regaling Buffy with some of the funnier adventures Greg had taken as a boy, as well as probed her life.

A sharp knock at the door made Buffy whimper everything had been going so well. Rushing to the door she sent a quick threat up to the PTB that it wasn't Spike, Angel, or anyone that might cause trouble.

Pulling the door open she found Andrew holding his hand, wrapped in a red spotted towel, high above his head.

"I know you said to stay over there tonight, but I was making a crudités platter for when Emmy and Melody and I watch Star Trek, and I cut myself," Andrew whimpered.

"Come in," Buffy practically pulled the man-boy into the apartment.

Guiding Andrew to sit on the couch Buffy dropped down to sit on the coffee table before fishing one of the dozens of first-aid kits out from under the couch. Buffy gently unwrapped the towel to find a nice gash on the side of Andrew's wrist.

House leaned down to take a look for himself, "Do you want me to stitch him up?"

John and Blythe watched as the new guest flinched at their son before shaking his head vehemently.

"No, it always hurts when you do it," he whined.

Buffy chuckled and pulled out a syringe, "Deep breath," she instructed.

Andrew squeezed his eyes shot and barely yelped when Buffy slid the needle into the raw flesh.

Glancing across the room to the kitchen she shook herself, "Sorry, Andrew is a bit accident prone."

"Am not," the subject whined.

"Oh really, what about last Christmas in Rome when Damien told you to put the angel on top of the tree," Buffy reminded him.

"I don't like heights and the ladder was really shaky!"

"The time you tripped down the stairs running after Faith?"

"She shouldn't have taken _my _Hot-Pocket!"

While Andrew had been trying to argue in his favor Buffy had skillfully started to suture the cut. John watched in appreciation. This girl would be a good addition to the family. She was clearly a good influence on Greg. He seemed less ornery than normal maybe even a little less hateful.

Taking the gauze and ace bandage from House Buffy smiled as she wrapped Andrew's wrist.

"Okay, all good. No more knives tonight. Go watch your movie and tell the girls not to laugh at you too much, huh," Buffy smiled as she stood up.

Andrew rose and wrapped Buffy in a quick hug, "Thanks," and then he was gone.

House rolled his eyes as he cleaned up the med-kit, "That was the Sea-Monkey."

* * *

House's favorite jazz album was playing softly in the background as the quartet sipped wine and discussed travel. Everything had calmed down significantly, although Buffy was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. And drop it did.

Somewhere between Minsk and Helsinki the telephone rang and House excused himself, half hoping it was Cuddy demanding he hurry to the hospital because some idiot had gotten the sniffles.

"Yellow. She's here. Yeah," House spoke quickly before chucking the phone at Buffy, "It's the C-man."

Catching the phone deftly, she huffed slightly before smiling apologetically at John and Blythe, seriously people needed to get better timing if they didn't want her to lock them up for good.

"Charlie," She asked as she rose from the couch, "Yes sir. Of course, thank you. Two, and Faith. The fifth it is. Alright, have a good night, Charlie."

Hanging up the phone Buffy slapped House upside the head, "You should be nicer to him, especially after that bottle of whiskey he gave us."

"Yeah, but if I was nice to him the world would turn backwards," House reasoned.

"Charlie likes you," Buffy rolled her eyes.

House scoffed before leaning towards his parents conspiratorially, "The president, Charlie, just likes my music collection."

Buffy sighed at the childish antics. Though she could tell he was wearing thin. John and Blythe didn't seem quite sure what to think of their Son's declaration. Buffy just picked up the bottle of pills from his coat jacket and tossed them his way.

House grinned tightly at her and dry swallowed two of his vicodin, "Thanks, Babe."

John saw his wife's smile widen into a full blown grin. Greg was known for never accepting help. Ever. Seeing him allow someone to worry over him cemented his like of the girl. Rising John clapped his son on the back.

"We'd better be going. Let you two kids have some fun," John smiled as he gave Buffy a light hug before leading Blythe out the door leaving two rather stunned people inside.

"Do you know what just happened," Buffy asked an equally puzzled House.

"Pod-people," he questioned almost hopefully.

Buffy bit her lip to keep from smiling, "Well now that we're all alone, I think it's about time I make it up to you for kicking you out last night."

House eagerly followed his girl into their bedroom, the devil's light played in both their eyes.

"You know," he mused as she stripped, "That was probably the least painful visit of all time."

Buffy glared at him, "Shut up and get your pants off," she demanded in a tone that booked no argument.

* * *

Hope you all enjoyed—this chapter irritated me and it felt a little off. But you know…hopefully it isn't too bad. Please review.


	12. Red

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.

A/N: Well this chapter was put off because my father kind of fell through the ceiling of our garage from the attic. So I've been busy trying to help him out.

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October 4th

"Why now, why this?"

"Balance," the emotionless voices answered her.

Buffy resisted the urge to stomp her foot, "But killing them!"

"We did not kill them," a female voice informed her.

"You did just as good," Buffy scowled. "No warning, nothing. You could have taken the power back—you could have done anything."

"My child, if we had taken their powers, they would have still fought. There is a balance that must be maintained. Weeks ago the balance tipped drastically in our favor, leaving…"

"Us with a favor," a cacophony of voices only half remembered filled the slayer's ears.

Buffy spun to face the horde…demons and vampires she'd killed, with Caleb and the bringers leading the pack.

Buffy growled and turned back to the assembled oracles and Powers, "So you allowed them to be destroyed! Why not me, why not Angel, hmm, why them?"

The man spoke again, "Because they never understood that there must be a balance. Faith understood, and Melody, Emmy, and Andrew can be taught. They must be."

"They were innocents!"

"Innocents do not use magic for their own gain, innocents do not use the mystical as their sword and shield, innocents do not, as you say, throw stones. The naïve and foolish, however, fight wars they should not and believe that death is beneath them, they dabble in things they could not even begin to comprehend. They were not innocents, they had seen a glimpse of the wars to come, and yet they fancied themselves powerful. They broke the balance and we had to stand by and watch it be rectified by more death," a new voice intoned.

The man sighed in annoyance, "We did not want their deaths. But we were powerless, we bartered, for the lives that we could. Though, your sister, Faith, she regrettably still hangs between the tipping points."

"No," Buffy whispered, the meaning of the words sinking in, "No."

Her voice echoed in the sudden silence, darkness, and utter seclusion.

A hand ghosted across her cheek, "I've missed seeing your pretty face, Sweetheart."

"Sweetheart," the voice called, it had a country twang.

"Sweetheart," it called again, thought it seemed distorted.

"Sweetheart, Buffy, Sweetheart!"

Buffy shot upwards, her breath coming in a single gasp as she tried to recognize her surroundings.

"Breathe, nice and slow," a warm male voice soothed her.

A hand on her back and one on her chest as Buffy slowly sank back into her own body. It took several moments before she could well and truly feel anything. The softness of the bed beneath her, the crispness of freshly washed sheets, the slight calluses from the hands on her skin, it was all rather surreal. A name, it was on the tip of her tongue, a plea.

"Greg," she asked through dry and cracked lips.

"Shh, I'm here. You're safe, I promise," Greg whispered into her hair.

Buffy clung senselessly to the man who had curled around her. He felt warm and safe. Safe was good. Safe was good.

His voice was low and familiar, "What happened, hmm, slept right through this morning's alarm. Thought I'd let you sleep after last night, I'm watching General Hospital and I hear you screaming…scared me half to death. Promise me you're alright, Baby."

Buffy whimpered, "They told me why, why they had to die."

Greg gently rocked the shuddering form of his love, "I've got you."

Her mind flooded with recognition at last, though it didn't stop the tears from falling, or the truth from resounding in her mind.

It took three cups of juniper tea and an attempt at meditation before Buffy could speak coherently.

Her voice was soft but still tainted heavily with sorrow and anger, "They were _allowed_ to be killed because they couldn't understand the _balance_ of the world. I have to teach Emmy and Melody and Andrew, they can't die too."

"They won't," confidence, confidence in her, that was all it took to bolster her mind.

Buffy let a tiny smile peak out, "Right, and how do you propose I teach them? Make them balance dictionaries on their heads?"

House shrugged before reaching over to the side table to grab the steno pad and jotting something down, "Not a bad idea. I don't know, take them to the playground and introduce them to the teeter-totter."

Identical smiles curled both their lips upward. Mercy ceased to exist when Buffy and Greg met.

* * *

Snuggled on the couch between House and a fuzzy blanket, Buffy could almost hear the laughter from the neighboring apartment. There was a reason she loved Saturdays. God, tomorrow would be murder. Andrew had put a giant 'X' on the calendar. A giant _red_ 'X' that wouldn't let her forget the quickly approaching nuptials. Wedding planning day.

Inhaling deeply, Buffy swallowed the leather, cigar smoke, and a brown sugar, cinnamon, and honey scented musk that was House. The leather was from his favorite motorcycle jacket, the smoke was from the occasional cigar. She couldn't place the spices, they almost reminded her of good whiskey, but it was warmer, soothing.

She smiled deeply as House shook beneath her, he did love watching the old British comedy shows. _Alfresco_ was this week's pick, and Buffy had to admit, it was funny for guys in tweed.

"You're comfy," she mumbled into his chest.

Fingertips danced across her clavicle, "I'm just a big marshmallow inside. Don't tell the Cudster, she might actually expect me to be nice to patients."

"We couldn't have that. Someone might try to steal you away from me. Although they'd bring you back in ten minutes," Buffy smiled and pressed a kiss to Greg's wrist.

"You don't have to insult me, I could totally do it in five minutes," House snickered.

_

* * *

_

October 5th

"House, I need help," Andrew whined as he pussyfooted around the stovetop.

Greg dropped the paper onto the counter and half shoved the younger man out of the way as he opened the oven door, "Pot holder."

"Pot holder," Andrew answered as he handed Greg the holder.

"Rack," Greg asked as he pulled the cookie sheet from the oven.

Andrew bit his lip and patted the rack on the counter, "Rack."

Dropping the pan on the rack, House spun on Andrew ignoring the soft snickering of the three females in the room.

"If you say Stat, so help me…I'll bury you in the side yard and plant daisies above you!"

Buffy sighed and tossed a dishtowel at Greg, "Aw, leave the poor boy alone. He's been maimed."

Oz's eyebrow lifted, "Paper cut, but I could solve that."

"I'll distract the witnesses, you get the axe," Greg shot back.

Emmy and Melody were in fits of laughter.

"But I like Andrew," Emmy muttered.

Oz nudged her shoulder with his, "You might be the only one."

"Enough talking, food," Melody cried as she walked to the stove and picked a scone off the pan.

Andrew scowled at her, "Hey, they have to sit for a minute!"

Buffy sighed, "Give it up Andrew, you're dealing with teenagers again."

Andrew appeared to wilt at the mere thought.

Through the laughter there was a knock at the door, "It's open," Greg called.

"Well good morning," John called cheerfully. "How's my girl?"

It took him two seconds flat to cross the apartment and plant a kiss on Buffy's cheek.

"Peachy-keen with a side of excellent," Buffy smiled up at him. "How was the museum, anything exciting?"

Blythe kissed Greg on the cheek and slapped her husband on the arm, "It was wonderful, all of the artists are so talented. And what do we have here?"

House rolled his eyes before dropping down into his chair beside Buffy, "Breakfast."

Buffy elbowed him, "John, Blythe, you've met Andrew. This is my best friend Oz, and my two girls Emmy and Melody."

Emmy and Melody waved almost nervously. Oz did the solemn held tilt and clasped John's hand.

"Ooh, the scones are ready," Andrew clapped his hands eagerly. "And then we can work on the wedding plans."

Amidst Emmy, Melody, and Andrew's excited chatter on _that_ subject, Buffy's head slumped down to the table.

House rubbed a hand in circles on her back, "Hey, it could be worse."

Buffy's head snapped up to glare at him questioningly, "How could it be worse…I have to plan, I have to have a plan. I'm not a planner, I'm a doer," she whimpered.

Oz nudged her leg under the table, "Hey, remember graduation? You planned that, and that required that math stuff."

A wistful smile made her face glow, "Oh, graduation was…amazing."

Melody leaned forward, "What happened."

Oz and Buffy exchanged a look, "It was explosive," Oz provided.

"I still don't see how this could be worse," Buffy pouted as John chuckled at her.

House shrugged, "We could be having a big wedding."

Blythe scowled at him, "The wedding isn't about you Greg, this is about Buffy and her feeling beautiful."

"She's always beautiful," Greg rolled his eyes.

"Aw, John why can't you say things like that," Blythe smiled at her son.

John smirked, "Well if it were true…"

"Horrible," Blythe smiled almost delightedly.

Greg rolled his eyes, "If I ever get that sappy shoot me."

Buffy nodded her head, "Melody, go get Mommy's gun."

It was House's turn to bang his head against the table.

Blythe exchanged a smile with the other girls, "Well, I thought I'd stick around and help with the planning. I'm sure John, Greg, Andrew, and Oz have better things to do."

Andrew shook his head, "No, I'm helping. I already have a list of what we need to do and everything!"

"Lists?" Buffy whimpered, "This is your fault, you're the one who wanted to get married! Why aren't you doing the work?"

Greg placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth, "Because I have things to scheme…not here."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "He has potential fellows to torture, it takes a lot of effort."

He exited the situation happily, with a scone and a hot cup of coffee to keep him company. Oz was the next to stand and gravitate towards the door, after kissing Buffy on the cheek.

"I have a few more apartments to check out. If you need me," Oz trailed off with a nod.

John chuckled and settled onto the couch, "You keep the flowers and the fabric samples in the kitchen and I'll be fine right here."

Emmy giggled, "Deal."

Buffy rose and poured herself another cup of coffee as the other four started to ravage the stack of bridal magazines.

"Coffee, John?"

"Please," he smiled sweetly.

Placing a mug on the coffee table Buffy smiled conspiratorially, "If I make a break for the door, cover me."

"Of course, Darling," John replied as he turned the TV on.

Buffy grinned and walked back into the breach that was the kitchen.

* * *

"Hand cramp," cried Andrew.

Melody snickered, "Ha, sucks to be you."

Andrew scowled, "No cookies for you!"

Emmy picked up the herbal neck bean bag and tossed it in the microwave, "Hold on."

After a minute Andrew's hand was wrapped in the herbal heating pad and Emmy was munching on a chewy chocolate chip cookie.

"See," Buffy tugged gently on Melody's ponytail, "You have to know where your bread's buttered and your stomach is cookied."

Blythe licked the last envelope, "Well at least all of the invitations are done with. And Andrew, you do such lovely calligraphy."

The geek blushed unashamedly, "Thank you Blythe."

Melody glared, she wasn't quite into the cutesy stuff, "Alright! So now we just have…dresses and suits, music, the cake, wedding party favors, marriage license, and most importantly, the bachelorette party!"

Andrew ripped the list out of Melody's hands, "And we're going to do disposable cameras, we booked the restaurant, and I'm going to set up my video camera."

Emmy nodded her head and crossed a few things off her own list.

Buffy shuddered at the still massive list, "Music is Oz and Devon's shtick. We're doing dress shopping on Friday…and Greg and I'll cut out of the hospital early for the cake and I'll con him into getting the license."

Melody giggled, "And the party?"

Buffy frowned, "Well, I was thinking, strippers and bar crawling."

Emmy laughed softly, "Dressed up like doctors?"

A fresh round of laughter filled the apartment, even Andrew was giggling.

"Wife-to-be," House yelled from the bedroom.

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Coming."

Buffy shimmied into the bedroom and closed the door. House reclined on the bed, hands behind his head.

"Strippers?"

Buffy crawled onto the bed, "Oh yeah."

One armed snaked around her waist, "No you aren't."

"Yes I am, maybe I'll even get Andrew laid," Buffy smiled.

House pulled Buffy down for a possessive kiss, "I don't think they let teens into strip clubs, or bars. Guess you'll just have to do something else and think about me."

Buffy's eyes narrowed, "Jealous?"

He shook his head, "Protective, you're too pretty for your own good."

A smile like the cat that got the cream crept onto her face, "Now that's what a girl likes to hear."

Another kiss, "Wilson likes to hear that too," House deadpanned.

* * *

Yay, another chapter. Please review, I'm trying desperately to bounce between stories and finish some writing before I have to be at school. I'm going to try to focus on school, but I want to have some chapters done for you all. Any and all encouragement or evil little ideas more than welcome. P.S.--I do love Alfresco--a nice tip off to our beloved Hugh. (And Steven Fry).


	13. Lessons & Promises

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.

A/N: Well, as we approach the end of summer, I'm prepping for my first year at university and dorm life (I've taken some classes at the local community college). Anybody have any tips? I've been trying to write some chapters so I can have something for you all, but it gets slow…Hope you enjoy.

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Monday, October 6_th_

"See you later," Buffy whispered as she nuzzled a still sleeping House.

Rolling her neck she mentally double-checked her to do list. The supply box was in the back of the car, Oz was curled up in the front seat, and her umbrella was leaning against the door. Picking up the last and most essential item, Buffy snickered to herself as she broke into the apartment across the hall.

Standing at the door, Buffy depressed the air horn button letting the short scream free.

"This is your five a.m. wake up call. Fall out, you have five minutes to be in the car—breakfast is waiting," Buffy yelled before slamming the door behind her.

Popping her umbrella, Buffy stayed mercifully dry as she got into the waiting SUV. Beside her Oz was chewing on a bear claw and sipping a cup of coffee. Buffy shivered and tucked one of the spare blankets across her lap.

Leaning over, Buffy bit off a piece of Oz's donut and moaned, "Oh sugar, how I've missed you."

After a moment of licking her lips, Buffy smiled sweetly at the guitarist, "It you give me the pastry, I'll marry you."

He handed over the sugary treat without hesitation. His reward was a happy moan, Oz snickered, "Promises, promises."

Buffy stuck her tongue out at her best friend from years gone by as he retrieved another donut from the box on his lap. They chewed in silence for a few moments before Buffy glanced at the clock and turned the key so the car engine purred to life.

"Think they know I'll make them run after the car if they're late," Buffy turned to Oz.

"Nah," he shook his head. "I call that a pleasant surprise."

Buffy smirked as the front door of the building swung open, "Wanna see pleasant?"

"Sure," Oz responded.

Buffy pulled out slowly of the parking spot and headed down the road. She wasn't doing much more than letting her foot off the brake and rolling down the street.

Oz and Buffy watched as Andrew, Emmy, and Melody started to jog weakly after the SUV.

Buffy rolled down her window, "Come on, if you want breakfast you gotta catch us!"

Surprisingly it was Emmy who made the first move. She pushed ahead of the other two, and made a first grasp for the door handle. She was lucky and the door popped open. Melody cheered, though it was Andrew who put on a burst. He was surprisingly spry. Melody hung back still as Emmy shoved the door open and came level with the opening.

Emmy grinned to herself as she curled her fingers around the grab handle. With a little push off the pavement, Emmy landed half on the backseat of the SUV and half on the floor.

"What's your poison," Buffy asked all too cheerfully. "Jelly, ChocoChunk, or straight."

She said the last like it was a plague. Emmy shrugged as she pushed herself up into the seat.

"ChocoChunk," she asked her cheer returning slowly.

Oz handed back the donut and a bottle of milk. Buffy smirked and sped up a little.

"Come on," she hollered at the two slowpokes.

Oz frowned, "Is this child abuse?"

Buffy shrugged, "Do I care, do you?"

"Good point," Oz nodded his head and picked up another donut.

"I hate you," Andrew panted as he jogged next to the open door.

He grabbed the seat crack and launched himself into the car. He was half hanging out of the car when Oz turned around and patted him on the head.

"Good boy."

Buffy snorted but smiled internally at her 'watcher'. It took a moment before Andrew could speak and take his pick of jelly or plain donut. It was a definitive jelly. What could any of them say: It was a Scooby thing.

Melody was still trailing along, and Buffy was getting towards the main street.

"You're only hurting yourself," Buffy called back.

"Shut up," Melody growled.

Buffy cocked her head to the side, "Oz, mark her down for cardio training. I can't believe Andrew beat her, a slayer! No offense Andrew."

Andrew looked up from his donut, "None taken."

Melody sneered all but prettily and put on a burst of speed until she was almost level with the car.

"Little help," she muttered.

Andrew and Emmy rolled their eyes and they both stuck an arm out of the door to hall Melody in. As soon as the door was closed, Buffy snorted and Oz snickered.

"That's cheating," Buffy told the three of them. "Enjoy your plain donut. You don't get to eat again until we finish today's training."

* * *

House grinned at the sticky note stuck to his vicodin. Buffy always knew how to make him smile.

_**'Hey Babe, called Chase last night for a little favor. The Dictionaries are in your office. Be by after lunch, you're parents are meeting us in the lobby at one. P.S. Airport, remember. Love you.'**_

Smirking at their devious plan, House slipped both his pills and the note into his jacket pocket. Things had been slow in recent days. Weeks, more actually, people had simply stopped getting paranoid. Cuddy hadn't made him try and cure a case of the sniffles in at least half a month. It wasn't his fault he _had_ to narrow down his minions to just three. Greg just couldn't simply be found responsible for what he _had_ to do.

Although when he explained that to Cuddy, he might have to cut down on the grinning.

* * *

It was pouring as Buffy and Oz stood under their umbrellas wrapped in blankets, setting up the three teeter totters. Andrew, Emmy, and Melody were already soaked to the bone as they stood in the centers of the playground toys. Buffy and oz picked up the Faberge egg tripods and the eggs. Setting one on each seat of the three teeter totters, Oz smirked. House had happily drawn halos and devils horns on them.

Backing up Buffy and Oz watched the threesome wobble.

"If either egg breaks, well, neither egg had better break," Buffy warned them. "The one on you're right is your side, the one on the left is the vamps and demons, witches and warlocks. Don't kill your side."

Apparently, the weather was on Buffy's side today. It was pouring and lighting was starting to flash on the horizon.

Oz leaned over to whisper in Buffy's ear, "Think they'll get it?"

"Andrew will, I don't know about the girls. God I hope so," Buffy moaned.

"Cold," Oz asked.

"God, yes!"

Turning back to watch the experiment, they caught Andrew explaining that if you tipped either way too much both eggs would fall.

Oz snorted, "Figures the geek would understand balance."

"Aww," Buffy's lower lip protruded. "He's not just a geek. He's a reformed bad boy."

It was a long morning, the rain went in and out, and the sky darkened and lightened as time dripped away. Hours passed until Buffy and Oz actually had to pay attention.

A booming crack of thunder had Melody in the air, causing her teeter totter to teeter and totter unpleasantly. Her attempt to stabilize her eggs failed and her good side rocketed up to a sudden stop, both eggs slamming to the ground in a gory scene of death.

Dropping down off the teeter totter, Melody groaned.

Buffy nodded to the drenched grass next to her, "You have to learn not to jump. You think battle will be quiet so you can focus, no. People might be dying around you, and you have to ignore it, focus. So what did you learn?"

Melody pouted, "If you don't keep your balance everyone dies."

"Close enough," Buffy shrugged.

Andrew was shifting his gaze between either side--keeping both as stable as he could. Emmy on the other hand was trying to keep the 'good' side higher than the 'bad' side.

"Andrew, jump down, you're good," Buffy called.

Andrew smiled brightly and he plugged his nose and jumped off the see-saw as if jumping into the ocean. When he straightened and jogged, shivering over to Buffy, she returned the pout and tossed him a dry towel.

Hugging himself happily, Andrew stood as close to Buffy as he dared.

Finally Buffy checked her watch and yawned, "Getting tired, Emmy?"

"Yes," the girl whimpered.

"Hop down," Emmy did as requested. "Wanna know why? You can _never_ always be winning. It's give and take. It's how balance works. Andrew is the only one who really understands. Balance keeps us alive. It keeps the government working, it's how we operate. Understand?"

There were two grumbling assents, and one cheerful 'yep' from Andrew. Buffy snorted.

"Got cold syrup," Oz asked.

Buffy shrugged, "The girls shouldn't need it. Andrew might, send him to the hospital if he does."

Oz nodded and offered Buffy the last Jelly donut. She took it with a salacious giggle.

* * *

House tucked his hands behind his head as he stared at his 'employees'.

"Since, we are sadly lacking in people who are desperate to be dead, we'll be doing some practice. Any problems with that?"

Slutty raised her hand, "And we're even here because?"

House's head jutted forward in an exaggeration of incredulousness, "McSlutty, if you're going to raise your hand, wait until you're called on. But to answer your question, I'm bored and I have to narrow down you morons to just three."

Slutty blushed and stepped back behind her fellow Potential Fellows.

"Good," House smirked. "Now everybody take a dictionary."

All ten applicants grabbed the inches thick books and returned their gazes to House.

Cutthroat narrowed her eyes and tossed her hair a bit, "This is going to be so easy if we get to use medical dictionaries."

House snickered and threw a wadded up form at the woman, "You don't get to use them. I don't care if you can read. I want to see if you actually know this. Put the books on your heads."

The Twins and Vet Girl did as told immediately. Slutty, Plastic Man, Reckless Kutty, and the other Black guy stared blankly at him. Cutthroat glared at him before huffing and resting the dictionary gently on the top of her head. The Old Guy followed suite after a moment. The Boy Scout let his book drop back to the table.

It was like painting a bulls-eye on his forehead, "Too good for this?"

His lower jaw rolled before locking, "No, I just think we can be doing some good instead of standing here like idiots. I'm sure we're needed in the clinic."

House shrugged, "Not my problem. Now either put the damn book on your head or get out!"

The Boy Scout jumped to follow the command. That left three idiots to deal with.

"You think that just went for him? While I respect people who question my judgment, I still expect my employees to do what I tell them!"

Kutty, Plastic, and finally Slutty did as told. House smirked triumphantly.

"Male, 33 years old. He has lower back pain as the only presenting symptom. No injury and he's getting worse. Pain extends to legs not alleviated by rest. No fever, but he can't pee. Swollen joints, pain is worse at night, no chronic infections, cancer, or osteoporosis. Who dunnit," House finished as he slammed out of the meeting room and into the hall.

He opened the door and stuck his head back in almost immediately, "Oh, and no talking. You have until I come back from getting some good coffee."

He slipped out and the door closed with another bang of glass and metal.

* * *

Cuddy stopped dead in her tracks. She was intending to go get lunch in the cafeteria, but if figures that the minute she walked out of her office House would interrupt her relatively normal day.

"What are you doing," she asked as he sat on the counter of the nurses' station.

House let his heels fall against the wood of the desk rhythmically, "Waiting."

"For what," Lisa tried for patience. "I take that back, Buffy?"

Cameron and Chase approached from the opposite side of the lobby.

Chase thrust his hands into his lab coat, "Buffy? And speaking of whom, how did those dictionaries work out for you?"

House shrugged noncommittally, "They got the first, and easiest one wrong. I mean how hard is it to diagnose Spinal Stenosis? They're doing punishment time now, so if you see 10 morons with books on their heads in the cafeteria, feel free to chuck things at them."

Chase chuckled while Cameron and Lisa tried and nearly failed to look reproachfully at their co-worker.

After a few minutes of pointless small talk between the group, excluding House, Cameron frowned and looked out the window.

"Your parents are flying home this afternoon, right?"

"Yep," Greg popped his 'p' in a way only a child could—or House...or Buffy.

Lisa caught onto Allison's thinking, "It has been pretty stormy, I hope the planes aren't delayed. Did you take your bike to work?"

"Yep," he repeated.

Chase shrugged, "It's let up quite a bit."

"Yep," House tried again.

"Is this the new water cooler," James asked as he arrived on the scene. "It's so hard to keep up with the newest hot spot. Usually Buffy texts me, but she hasn't been here in a few days."

Speaking of the devil, Buffy came running into the lobby and straight into the bathroom without even a wave to her fiancé and their friends. House pushed off the counter and started to limp towards the bathroom. Everyone who knew Buffy was staring at the door. The only time Buffy had ever been sick in their knowledge, she had gone toe to toe with a gang of purple people eaters.

Minutes passed as House debated whether to follow Buffy or to wait for her. At last Buffy emerged, her sweatshirt wrapped tighter around her torso, and her face sallow.

James pushed past House and laid the back of his hand against Buffy's forehead, "Are you okay, are you sick?"

Slayers didn't just get sick, Buffy didn't just get sick. Every single one of the group knew that.

Buffy shook her head pathetically and House took the time to shove his best friend out of the way to make his own assessment. Chase, Cameron, and Cuddy hovered around the threesome, Buffy really didn't look good.

Checking Buffy's pupil constriction, House murmured to her, "What's wrong, are you feeling sick?"

Buffy nodded, her lower lip jutting out, "Yes! I just saw some toddler outside eat a worm," a massive shudder ran through her body.

Relief and disbelief flooded through the Slayer's four friends. A small reflexive smile flickered on Greg's face before it slipped back to concern. His hand slipped around to cradle her head.

Buffy leaned into House, laying her in the crook of his neck.

She whimpered once more, "And I ate two jelly donuts this morning. Let me tell you, _way_ better going down than coming up."

That triggered the laughter. It was a deep rumble against her body. Buffy smiled a little.

"Promise me no kid of ours will eat worms," she begged.

He chuckled again, "I promise, it'll be rule number…three, as long as you promise not to scare me like that again."

Buffy wrinkled her nose in thought, "Deal. Do you have gum?"

"Yeah," House pulled the packet from his pocket and tucked it into her hand. "How did training go?"

Buffy bit her lip to keep her mischievous smile down, "Hmm, well I taught them how to jump into a moving car."

"Excellent," House mimicked _The Simpson_'s Mr. Burns.

* * *

The car ride to the airport was half and half. Half silence on the men's part, and half inane chatter on the women's part. Blythe had ordered Buffy to call her if she needed anything, and told her about some of the last minute ideas she'd come up with.

At the gate, where they had to say goodbye Buffy and John sat on a set of chairs as House and Blythe talked.

"Ridiculous," John snorted as he slapped the paper against his knee.

Buffy tilted her head to the side to read the headline. _'Gang on PCP Attacks Rise in Trenton'_

"Ridiculous," John repeated, "Although more believable than the real thing."

Buffy looked John in the eyes, "You know," she asked slowly.

"I've traveled a lot," he smiled. "You know?"

Buffy held back her hopeful smile, "I was trained to fight them."

John rose and pulled Buffy up and into a crushing hug.

"Don't let the vampires bite," he whispered into her hair before stepping through the gate with one last wave.

* * *

House weaved between traffic as they made their way home. Buffy had been oddly quiet for the duration. Scooting over on her seat, Buffy leaned over the center console to rest her head on House's shoulder.

After a good half hour of comfortable silence, Buffy shifted, "Dude, your dad _knows_!"

"Huh," House asked confusedly.

"He _knows_, about my fuzzy fanged friends," Buffy told him.

"_Weird_," House said slowly, his brain spinning out of whack.

* * *

Yay, new chapter. By the way, the worm thing comes from a rather amusing biology experience—I hate the smell of worms (I have serious OCD with smells) so we were 'dissecting worms', and I was staying not in smell range—except they had been steeped in formaldehyde. That combination had me in serious danger of dry heaving all day…safe to say I was off biology for several weeks. Meow! And Ta!


	14. Again?

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.

A/N: So this chapter has been in the works for some time. Yes I know, shame on me. I'd been trying to pack all my crud up for college—and then there was the actual hell that was move-in. I now live on the 18th floor of one of the world's tallest residence halls—wow, now you know where I am. Ha. Any-who, it has a great view of a bunch of trees. Sorry, Stargate moment there. Hmm, but since I finally had some downtime today, I figured I'd finish this off. Before I went and did my Psych reading—icky. Please review, I need all the love I can get. Please!

_

* * *

_

Tuesday, October 7_th_

Buffy pouted and cocked her head to the side, her patented puppy dog look.

"Please Andrew," Buffy begged.

"Why do I have to?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and slumped back into a relaxed stance, "Do you really want to be the one holding the punching bag? Especially after what happened with—Kennedy."

Andrew nodded slowly, "I still think she did that on purpose."

Buffy closed her eyes, "Please, Andrew."

"Fine," Andrew huffed before picking up the shoebox filled with invitations and stalked out of the apartment, only to stalk back in and pick up a stake, a can of pepper spray and his windbreaker.

"Thank you," Buffy called after him.

Andrew stuck his tongue out, "I hope they gang up on you!"

Turning around, Buffy felt more than unsettled. Not by Andrew's words, but by the two girls staring up at her in rapt attention.

"So."

"So," both Emmy and Melody responded.

* * *

House squinted at the short werewolf, "So a band."

"Yep," Oz nodded, a good imitation of the Mick Jagger head bob.

"Dingoes Ate My Baby," House returned the nod.

"Yep," Oz repeated.

"Good," House asked.

"We're doing this practice thing so we won't suck."

"Huh," House shrugged as he picked a few notes on his guitar. "Groupies?"

"Some," Oz half smiled. "Dev'll say Buffy's his."

"Big old yen for her?"

"Ah-uh," Oz wavered, "Yes."

"Could I take him?"

"Fair," Oz asked.

"Hell no," House snorted, everybody should know better than to think he would fight fair. Ever.

Oz ruffled his black cherry colored hair, "Yeah. Just threaten to break his nose."

"Good tip," House admitted.

Oz started to strum his own guitar, as he watched House sitting on the couch. Oz had needed to get out of the madhouse that was the new apartment this morning. Devon had spearheaded the unpacking, which had probably been a mistake on Oz's part.

The phone rang and both musicians ignored it. There was a reason somebody invented the answering machine, and caller ID, and call blocking, so House and Oz didn't have to listen to people talk.

"House," a pause, "Its Wilson and its 4:30. Cuddy was on a rampage this morning and now she's really happy—weirdly happy. Work is weird. She gave me the rest of the day off when I asked if she was on any medication. I'll see in ten minutes. I assume that will give you and Buffy enough time to stop screwing like rabbits—seriously though, stop screwing!"

House snorted once, "It's not like it's all we do."

Oz just looked at him.

"Okay, it's a lot of what we do."

Oz shrugged, "Angel and Spike tried similar strategies."

House inhaled with a heavy flinch, "So date night?"

"Good plan."

* * *

Buffy braced the punching bag against her hip and thigh, Melody was attempting rather unsubtly to knock her down. Apparently no slayer—no Council free slayer—liked monotonous training.

Snorting to herself, Buffy called the slayer off and stepped away from the magically suspended punching bag. It had been one of Andrew's rather genius ideas. Using a little charm so the bags hovered above the ground when 'switched' on. Of course Buffy had given him a strict magic and Willow talk when he'd first done it.

Flopping down onto the couch, Buffy slung her left leg over the back of it.

"Melody, what did I tell you about that," Buffy directed at the girl.

"Strength is not the power, they have the power, not me," Melody repeated before tugging on one of her loose, carrot shaded, locks.

Emmy sniggered. Melody wasted no time in retaliating. Her hand flashed out causing Emmy to squeak loudly.

"No fair," the 'quieter' girl cried.

Melody smirked and blew her sister slayer a kiss, "All's fair in love and war."

"And that's my cue to dunk you both in the bathtub," Buffy sat up with a grunt. "Although, considering what happened last time somebody 'baptized' a bunch of kids, maybe we'll skip it."

Emmy jumped onto the couch and leaned her head on Buffy's shoulder.

"What happened?"

Buffy scratched her ear, "Well my boyfriend at the time, well he and I ended up having crazy wild marathon…I'll tell you when you're older."

Melody cackled like Halloween had come earlier, "You nymphomaniac lady of the night!"

Buffy's eyes narrowed, "Hey, it was the spirits! Just wait 'til your first possession, I so have 'I Told You So' rights."

* * *

Buffy quirked her head and rose from the splits, giving Emmy and Melody an order to keep stretching, she slipped into the hall.

She smiled when she saw who was 'sneaking' into the building. Wilson, James Wilson.

"Playing hooky," Buffy asked softly.

"Jesus," James exclaimed pressing a hand to his chest, "Don't sneak up on people. House may be a doctor but if I have a heart attack on your doorstep, I don't think he'd get off his ass to save me."

Buffy pouted sympathetically, "Aww, I'd make him. Who else would be Greg's best man then."

"Andrew? Chase, Cuddy," Wilson offered pointedly.

"Okay two of those three are too girly for his taste," Buffy replied with a wink. "Three guesses and it's not Cuddy."

Wilson bowed his head and snickered, "Point taken."

Buffy patted James' shoulder and tipped her head towards the apartment, "Go on, tell those two idiots I'm ordering pizza for you three."

A quick peck on the cheek from Wilson and Buffy was grinning happily, "Now go, make sure they're not burning the place down."

* * *

Buffy stared at the ceiling. Shifting slightly, she turned her head to gaze at the peacefully sleeping man. She bit back the giggle that threatened to gurgle up. Turning back to the ceiling, Buffy took one deep breath after another. Willing her body to numb and succumb to sleep.

Nothing.

Grimacing, Buffy took stock. Her muscles weren't sore or stiff, her mind was alert and observant, she wasn't tired. In practiced, slow, moves, Buffy untangled herself from the sheets and dressed. Picking up a few weapons and her house key on the way out of the bedroom, Buffy kept one eye on House. He never woke or hinted at waking.

* * *

Buffy pelted through the graveyard, it was still early, but there was plenty of action. She hadn't patrolled really for a week or so, and even longer before then. It helped that she had a treaty of sorts with the local vamps. Though, she had to admit, almost nothing satisfied her like a good patrol.

Yelping lightly more out of a conscious need for release than surprise, Buffy ducked out of the way of a knife. Grabbing the offending arm, Buffy spun around and kneed the demon in the gut. It didn't retaliate so they stood there looking at one another. It, was giant and pink and sort of leathery with a pink Mohawk, talk about bizarre.

Buffy's eyes widened as she got a face full of dust. There was something new, a demon that sneezed dust. Though, now she was all dusty and that didn't make for a happy Buffy. With her free hand, Buffy plunged her hand into the demon's chest cavity and crushed it's heart.

* * *

After shaking off the dust, Buffy had found a stream to rinse her gory hand off in. Now she skulked back into her bedroom and undressed before sliding back into bed. She turned over and curled up into Greg's side, blissfully tired.

_

* * *

_

Wednesday, October 8th

House slipped out of bed in the dark of morning, he hobbled into the kitchen and started the coffee maker and slipped his chocolate fudge poppy-tarts, as Buffy called them, in the toaster. Walking back to the bedroom, House stopped dead in the doorway and tried frantically to remember how many vicodin he'd taken last night.

"Buffy," he asked slowly.

The sheets rustled, "Hmm, what?"

House tipped his head to the side trying to remain calm, "I don't want to alarm you, but I'm having a bit of trouble seeing you right now."

The bed dipped and hand brushed his cheek, "Are you okay, can you see shapes?"

House shook off her hand, "My vision is fine. I'm just can't see you, because you're, well not visible."

Though House couldn't see it, Buffy's face pulled into a whimper and she retreated to the bed, "This is all just a really bad dream."

House edged over to his side of the bed and picked up the phone, "Did you patrol last night."

Guilt welled up in Buffy's throat, "Yes," she did whimper this time.

House sighed and shook his head, "You should have woken me. What if I had woken up in the middle of the night and you weren't there, I would have freaked out and rounded up the search party."

Buffy frowned contritely, "Sorry."

House held his hand out to her, she took it and he squeezed, "Don't be, just next time…"

She nodded before remembering she was invisible, again, "Fine."

"Okay, now I'm going to go call the cavalry," House slipped out of the room.

* * *

Five minutes later, Andrew burst into the apartment, one hand over his eyes and the other flung out to keep him from walking into walls. He was still wearing his ewok footie pajamas.

"You're not doing naked push-ups, are you," Andrew called.

"No," Buffy growled from her place on the piano bench.

House snorted, "You can open your eyes."

Andrew squinted as he dropped his hand, clearly ready to replace the hand if it was a trick, "Okay. So what did this?"

"It was hot pink, it sneezed dust on me!"

Andrew's forehead crinkled for a moment before a triumphant gleam entered his eyes, "Lepusfelicis!"

"Leper-what," Buffy exclaimed.

Andrew shook his head, "That's the demon. It had a Mohawk, right?"

Buffy nodded, "I mean yeah."

"Then you don't have to worry," Andrew told her happily.

House quirked an eyebrow and tapped the back of the couch with his cane, "You do realize she's invisible, right?"

"Not the first time," Andrew muttered. "It's temporary. A 48 hour deal, so it happened at what time?"

Buffy shrugged, "9:20-ish."

"So by 9:30 tomorrow you'll be Visible Buffy again."

House interrupted, "But it's not harmful?"

Andrew shook his head, "Sweet, want to come to work with me? I've got people to screw with, I could always use help."

Buffy smirked and started towards the bathroom, "I'm up for it, but I'd like to take a shower, and maybe get dressed."

Andrew yelped and scrambled back across the hall.

* * *

Buffy sat on one of the chairs in the patient's room. His assist dog jumped up beside her, Buffy reached around to scratch his ear. Why was it that dogs could see right past the bull? She turned back to House, one hand still attending to the dog. He was doing some very routine work, questions, and reaction tests. He seemed unsurprised. That was a good thing.

It was nearly 4:30, Greg and Buffy had already made the rounds. They visited Wilson, and Cuddy, and Cameron, and Chase, all of them finding Buffy's 'condition' more entertaining than their actual work, much to her displeasure.

Greg sighed and smirked at the patient, "Well, I'll have seven of the best doctors here to treat you, and three to hold your hand here in 15 minutes."

* * *

Buffy laid in waiting, listening and reporting back. Occasionally screwing with the potential fellows, she was the Invisible Girl after all. She listened to the diagnoses, she reported back, and House told her the truth. What was ailing the patient.

She sat with the man and his dog. She was a silent comfort, a guardian angel. So when she scooped up the fallen pills and slipped them into her pocket she smiled softly and kissed the sleeping man's head.

* * *

Cameron smirked to herself, she'd heard stories about this woman from House via Buffy. Cutthroat Bitch, it was her name for a reason. She'd throw anyone under a bus to further her career.

Cutthroat was still talking, "False assumptions. You're good. You're trying to get me to think like him."

Cameron was ready to growl, "And you're trying to kiss my ass." She stopped and spun to confront the other woman, "Why are you talking to me."

The woman leaned forward, "Because House is turning patient care into a game. It's dangerous. The patient's going to suffer—maybe die."

Cameron felt a small tug at the back of her lab coat and then a finger etching a symbol into her back. Allison evaluated the woman coldly. She was trying to play the former fellow.

Leaning in conspiratorially, Allison hid her smirk, "Whatever you think you know, I suggest you forget, you're in over your head. However much you try, you'll never be him—so you can't us like he does."

Pulling back, Cameron started walking again, her smirk appearing and an arm wrapping around her waist.

"How was that," Cameron asked lowly.

Buffy giggled lightly, "I think you pissed her off."

"Excellent," Cameron tried for evil. "She'll go to Chase next."

Buffy nodded, "And she'll try and prey on their less than amicable parting."

Allison rolled her eyes, "I'll give him a heads up, besides Cutthroat doesn't know about a little thing called a wedding."

Both girls laughed uproariously as they turned the corner, Buffy thoroughly enjoying her second shot at being invisible.

* * *

Chase scrubbed his hands, as he prepped himself for surgery. Of course every day had to have its snags. His happened to be a rather irritating blonde that he didn't care for.

"Do you think they're wrong," Cutthroat asked.

Chase scoffed, "You mean to ask, do I think House is wrong."

"Well is he," she insisted.

Amber had bribed the pharmacist 100 bucks to find out what drugs the other team were giving the patient. Then she had bribed another doctor in the ER to help her figure out a test that would work. Of course that test had ended very badly—badly enough for her team to be put on time-out. So now she was back to flattery and conning to get what she wanted.

Chase frowned at her, "Don't think he's wrong."

"If he is, how would I prove it," she persisted.

Chase sighed, "Just said I don't think he is."

Amber wanted to hit something, "Well, thinking isn't good enough."

Chase shook his head, "You'd have to run tests, and labs."

"Would you mind running the labs," Amber tried for sweet.

"You can't."

"Well I can, but…" Amber trailed off.

Chase shook his hands off, "I was making a statement, you don't House to find out what you're doing. You weren't coming here for advice. You came here to con a favor to save your job. Sorry, I'm not working for him anymore, but he can still make my life miserable."  
He started towards the operating room, Amber called after him, "You have a chance to make his life miserable."

Chase bit his tongue and turned around, "I'm insulted. You tried to con Cameron by appealing to her humanity."

Amber fought back the moan of frustration, "I told her what she wanted to hear."

Chase scoffed, "And you told me what you thought I wanted to hear."

Amber believed she'd won, "If it's any consolation, I think your motives are more interesting."

Chase shook his head, unbelievable, "You're wrong. I don't want to make his miserable, in fact, you're going to be hard pressed to find someone who days nowadays."

Chase stalked in surgery, smirking to himself. He and House weren't exactly best friends, but they weren't out to ruin each other either.

_

* * *

_

Thursday, October 9

_th_

The potentials filed into the dark room. House stood at the front, the desk held lighted Bunsen Burners, and he carried a staff. It was Survivor-esque. Adjusting his doo-rag, House motioned for the teams to sit. He glanced back at Buffy who sat at his desk, still quite invisible.

"Congratulations," House spoke slowly and clearly.

Some of the men and women looked triumphant, a few confused.

"You killed the patient, and his dog," House's voice darkened suitably, he was angry.

"What," Amber exclaimed.

The others shocked expressions were overshadowed.

Kutner shook his head, "What happened?"

"Does it matter," House asked.

"Yeah," Taub answered.

"Slutty over there had the right diagnosis," he paused giving Thirteen's ego time to swell. "But she's the one who really killed him. She didn't watch him take the damn pills. They got spilled on the ground, and the dog ate them!"

Thirteen's eyes widened and tears threatened to fall, "I thought he took them."

"Never assume anything," House told her.

Thirteen was openmouthed, "Am I fired?"

House tipped his head to the side and leaned on the desk, "Yanks, you're done for. Don't look so proud, Cutthroat. Thirteen isn't fired."

The three women House had fired filed out. Buffy turned the gas off on three of the flames. Each sputtering out one at a time, the remaining potentials watched raptly.

House frowned at Thirteen, "You know he'd be alive. His dog'd be alive."

"I know," she ground out.

"You forced us to act on a false assumption."

"I know."

House kept going, "Everything we built from that step on. Every test, every theory, every treatment."

Thirteen glared at him, "I know! Forget the lecture and fire me already!"

"I said I wasn't going to fire you," House reverted to his light tone. "If I was going to fire you, I wouldn't be giving you the lecture. I know you're not going to let anything like this ever happen again. Because if you do, not only will you not have a job, you won't be able to live with yourself."

House turned back to the desk and looked at the space Buffy resided in, he thanked whatever higher power that she was invisible, and even more that she was in his life.

"I'll see you all tomorrow."

_

* * *

_

Wednesday, October 8

_th_

_Buffy leaned against Greg in the elevator, "Thirteen didn't watch Stark take the pills. They got knocked to the floor, the dog almost ate them."_

_House stiffened and tightened his hold on Buffy, "Thank you. Now, we've got to go set some things up for tomorrow._

_

* * *

__House stood in front of Stark. The man was already accepting death, hoping for something more. Buffy stood beside the man's bed, House could barely see the dog's fur ripple._

_House plunked the pills and a glass of water onto the tray, "Here. Take them."_

_Stark looked at him, but took the pills._

_"The idiot's I have working for me screwed up. They didn't watch you take the pills before, the dog nearly ate them. I mean you can't wipe your own ass and they expect you to take a couple of pill without hand holding."_

_Stark chuckled, "You're right about that, but how'd you know?"_

_House's smirk slipped into a soft frown, "Your guardian angel told me. She's been looking after you."_

_Stark nodded, "I like that, she got a name?"_

_House smirked, "Oh yeah, it's Buffy. She's this really hot blonde, ruff."_

_"I can handle that," Stark was laughing brightly._

_Buffy gave the dog one more scratch before ghosting her hand through Stark's hair. He looked over at the space she should have been in. He shrugged it off._

_House retreated to the door, leaving the man alone, before leaning back into the room, "Oh, and uh, sorry I have to kill you."_

_More laughter, laughter that could have roused the dead._

_Buffy rested her head against House's shoulder, "I love you, you know that."_

_"Doesn't everybody," House asked with a smirk._

_

* * *

_

Thursday, October 9

_th_

House picked up his keys and flicked the lights off.

He had stayed late for one reason and one reason only. Buffy, she'd somehow fallen asleep in his office after the tribal kick-out council, and he didn't have the heart to wake her. So, until 9:20, he couldn't exactly get someone to put her in the car. Luckily enough, she'd woken just before she'd re-visiblized.

She just smiled at him, "Ready for date night?"

He agreed readily, "_Bullitt_?"

"_Bullitt_," Buffy agreed.

* * *

Snuggled up in the theater, Buffy watched the screen, Steve McQueen walked on screen and smirked. Buffy burrowed farther into Greg. Her eyes drooped as the words faded and the loud ringing of church bells pressed forward. One, two, three, four, five, six. The film shuddered and the bells started to ring again only for the shuddering to start one last time.

Shaking herself, Buffy stretched in her seat. It was a different scene in the movie, the hospital. A sheet being pulled up and over a body, the doctor turned around, only he wasn't the doctor, he was the priest.

It almost looked like Caleb, with the black blood running from his eyes, and his hand reaching out to lie on her belly. A hand that was warm, traveling up her torso, and arm, to her cheek, then down to her hand. Buffy tried to shake the hallucination, but the seconds were drawn out, the movie sped past her eyes. The man on screen was talking, but all she could hear was the light southern drawl.

"'til death do us part," he laughed maniacally before sobering. "If you're lucky, and I'm bored."

The laughter closed in around her and got louder until all she could hear was the pressure. She started and breathed heavily, as the clapping came into focus. She felt Greg rise beside her, and Buffy reached out to take his hand. She smiled sleepily and leaned against him, allowing House to lead the way.

They sat in silence on the way home, the radio off, and the lights dimmed.

Buffy chuckled to herself, "I had the weirdest hallucination during that movie."

House pulled to a stop at the light and turned his head to look at her, "You slept through the whole movie."

His tone was the one he used on patients, Buffy smiled softly it wasn't a hallucination. It was a dream, "Oh. Why didn't you wake me?"

Greg reached across the car to cradle her cheek in his hand, never noticing her slight flinch, "You need the sleep, you're stressed. Besides, you're cute when you sleep and it means I can check out the hotties on screen."

Buffy smiled at his attempt to make her laugh, "You were checking out Steve, weren't you."

House just gave her the look that meant, 'this is me, isn't it? Of course I was!'.

Buffy laughed softly and leaned into his touch, "Me too."

* * *

So, that was it, hehe, I do love Steve McQueen—and Bullitt. So please leave me some lovin'. I'm going to try to work on the next chapter. Haha. And for those of you who had a spaz moment this was based off of s4 eppy. 97 Seconds—except without the whole electrocution bit—so really the episode was just A dude and his dog.


	15. The Blanket

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.

A/N: Decided to pound this chapter out in a few hours…I know have a headache on top of a really nasty cough—I sound like a pack-a-day smoker—only without the husky voice…haha—ow, coughing fit. Hmm, I know a lot of you might hate me for this chapter…oh well…just remember I'm not even like half through with this story…hehe.

Oh and a note to remember—I'm not so strict on the W&H stuff, so no Illryia—just plain old lovable Fred.

_

* * *

_

Friday, October 18

_th_

It was just past midnight on the moonless Friday morning, a woman smiled softly with pride. Leaning down she pulled a warm, heavy blanket over two sleeping girls on the couch. It had been a long week. After the invisible incident of Wednesday and Thursday, Friday had been hectic in its own right. Wedding shopping,

It hadn't helped that full length mirrors had started to freak her out due to the First. It wasn't exactly happiness imagining pure evil prancing around in her potential wedding dress. Shaking off the thoughts, Buffy rolled over in bed.

Monday had come again, with the _excitement_ of the first day of school for Emmy and Melody. Andrew had surprisingly stepped up and gotten them ready—that meant shopping trips, lunches, breakfast, and even homework. He'd even gone and introduced himself to the principle, Buffy couldn't have been prouder. She'd done the same thing when Dawn had started high school—well she'd gone one step further and gotten a job at the school. Still, Andrew was turning out to be quite the helicopter pseudo-parent.

The remainder of the week had been strangely quiet, Greg hadn't had any cases, no demons popped their ugly heads up, Melody and Emmy hadn't gotten into any fights—was it wrong that Buffy was a little disappointed in them?—life had leveled off in a very bizarre twist of events.

Thursday had been a celebratory night, pizza, Dev on karaoke, Oz and House on guitar, and some of the best bollywood films around. Buffy true to her character kept rooting for the girl to fall for the old guy—everyone but House looked at her like she was crazy, House just chuckled and kissed her cheek.

Maybe she liked the old ones a bit too much—well the average age of her boyfriends was in the hundreds.

Today would be a half-day for the girls, the afternoon filled with training and the evening populated by a few demons and maybe a vamp or three.

Shivering lightly under the blankets, Buffy scooted closer to her own personal bed warmer, its name was Greg. Said bed warmer was in a vicodin induced slumber, but even so, one arm snaked out to help pull Buffy closer.

Life was good, a man to keep her toes warm, a slightly effeminate friend to cook yummy food, a furry friend to howl with her, and two mini-slayers to share the burden with.

* * *

Gregory House wasn't an obviously curious man. He was curious in an abstract way. He didn't ask silly questions, he believed in learning by doing. Whether it was treating a patient without knowing the answer or sitting down and playing the piano by mimicry—Greg was a man of action.

Sitting alone in his office, he flipped the penknife over in his hand. Tossing it into the air and catching it, facilitating his thought process. The penknife and its owner had brought him a new puzzle today. A puzzle he was puzzled of. The options were clear, believe in the science, or learn the truth for himself.

* * *

Chase shifted in his chair and glanced down at his sandwich, his pager beeped.

_Buffy—911—My office._

There was one thing in the world that House took seriously and by an understanding so did those who knew him: Buffy.

Seeing a doctor running in a hospital was not strange. Seeing blatant panic on a doctor's face was. Robert dodged out of the cafeteria, passing a gaggle of potential fellows, bypassing the crowded line for the elevator and going straight for the stairs. It took a few moments but at last he skidded to a stop outside House's office—just in time to see the brilliant blue crackling flash of light. His heart skittered to a halt. House was splayed on the ground, penknife jammed in an outlet, phone by his side. Buffy wasn't in sight.

* * *

The potential fellows sat in the auditorium, waiting for Wilson. He came and in clipped tones told them to go home. There was no room for questions, and just as quickly as he came he was gone.

* * *

Red eyed, Buffy whipped into the hospital, she came to a stop in front of James. She swallowed her tears and fell into the hug he offered.

"It wasn't an accident," she practically pleaded.

He shook his head and gently led her to the elevator. She clung to him, unnaturally, for her, seeking contact—comfort. Wilson had the growing urge to kill House himself. James stopped her at the observation window, allowing her to look in on her fiancé. He was pale, unconscious, he looked almost dead. They had him hooked up to a myriad of machines, an oxygen tube running under his nose, and an IV in his arm. Chase and Cameron were hustling around the room, checking his vitals and marking things on a chart.

Shaking herself, Buffy stepped into the room, accepting a quick hug from Cameron and another from Chase before they excused themselves. Buffy stood at the foot of the bed, her body stiff, she'd had some sliver of hope that it was an accident, or someone had tried to kill him. She laughed dryly, wasn't it sad when hope is a possible murder attempt. After what seemed to be an age, Buffy released her posture and moved to sit in the bedside chair. Face blank, she reached out and curled her hand within House's limp one.

Outside the room gathered mutual friends, Wilson, Chase, Cameron, Cuddy, Oz, and Andrew. They watched in varying degrees of sorrow, rage, and disappointment. They watched their friend sit alone, despite the fact that she was holding House's hand. She was alone again, like she always was when the men in her life turned their backs on her.

_

* * *

_

Saturday, October 19

_th_

Chase set his clipboard down on the desk and levered himself up and onto it as well. Slowly House's new pincushions ambled into the auditorium and took their seats.

Cutthroat glared at him—or maybe that was just the way her face was.

"Where's Dr. House?"

"Unconscious," Chase told her flatly.

Thirteen frowned, "Why?"

"He was electrocuted, like the patient he treated yesterday morning."

The black guy scowled, "Maybe it was... just an accident."

"It wasn't an accident," Cutthroat sneered.

Kutty quirked an eyebrow, "Think his nihilism got the best of him and he tried to kill himself?"

"Maybe," Cutthroat retorted.

Chase scowled, "He paged me."

"He paged you, someone he fired," Cutthroat glared at him again.

Chase locked his jaw, "Why do assume that he wouldn't page me just because he fired me?"

Cutthroat crossed her legs and leaned back confidently, "I assume because he…"

Wilson sauntered in and dropped his briefcase on the table, "Don't fall into the trap."

Chase quirked an eyebrow at the other man, James obliged, "Cuddy told me you have a new case, thought I might lend a hand and get out of the way."

Buffy had visitors. Nodding in understanding, Chase handed the case-file over to the oncologist.

Chase began to rattle off a list of information about the funeral-home cosmetician. The potentials traded glances, a case without House, was House okay?

* * *

Emmy rested her palm against the cool glass of the window, "Is she going to be okay?"

Oz dropped his hand on the young slayer's shoulder, "Maybe."

It wasn't quite the answer either slayer was looking for. Melody wrinkled his nose and tapped her nails against the glass.

"Is he gonna live?"

Oz looked at the carrot-haired girl, "Yeah."

The brunette tilted her head to the side, "If I were him, I wouldn't want to."

Oz nodded his agreement.

"I got Coke and Pepsi, everyone says you can taste the difference, but I can't," Andrew rambled as he came around the corner.

"Pepsi," Melody called out, snagging the can from his hand.

Emmy took the Coke with more composure, "What do you think?"

Andrew stared at his nearly catatonic friend, "Reminds me of the day she came back."

Oz quirked his head to the side, a silent question.

"She looked so blank, but you could feel the anger and sadness rolling off her."

Emmy pressed her half-drunk Coke in Andrew's hand before pushing the door open and slipping inside. Melody followed.

Buffy barely noticed when four arms slipped around her, crushing her between the two young slayers. She watched blindly was they slipped from the room, but not before Emmy gently flicked House's temple, a reprimand.

Buffy smiled softly, chuckling internally.

Andrew was next, "Um, Buffy, I made your favorite brownies this morning. Emmy and Melody tied me up and ate half of them, and they wouldn't untie me until I threatened them with leeks four times a day."

Buffy's eyes slid momentarily to his before she went back to staring at the corner of the room.

Oz was last. He kissed her forehead and draped her favorite blanket over her lap.

"You know," he murmured. "It's a damn good thing Devon is ready to step up, you know, just in case you kill House."

This time she her eyes crinkled at the corners and the smile was pure and bright, her laugh matched the joy she derived from the thought.

Oz retreated while she laughed.

_

* * *

_

Sunday, October 20

_th_

Buffy watched House carefully. Every few moments he would twitch, his breathing would change. He was waking up. It seemed Wilson was thinking the same thing. He was waiting outside the room. Buffy rose and dropped her blanket onto the bed. Steeling herself she fished the keys to the SUV out of her pocket and dropped them into James' palm as she walked out of the room, out of the hospital.

It didn't take long for her to hail a cab, and soon enough she was at the train station. And then she was on a train, a little more than four hours in a catatonic state. A phone call or two, and she was free to be extraordinarily pissed off.

* * *

"I called earlier," Buffy told the nurse at the front desk.

She smiled softly, "It's good to see you again Ms. Summers."

Buffy nodded, "Yeah, I need to see my sister, I know it's after visiting hours…"

She trailed off and the nurse smiled again, "The doctor told left me a note saying you were going to visit tonight, I'll take you up."

"Thank you," Buffy whispered.

She walked the path to Faith's room, the nurse chattering amicably most of the way. With a small wave, Buffy was alone with her sister slayer.

"Budge up, would you," she scolded Faith softly.

With a sigh, Buffy toed off her boots and her jacket and curled up to Faith's side. One hand tangled with another, hair intermixing and clashing. Night and Day, or rather, Day and Night.

* * *

Wilson leaned against the bed tray at the foot of House's bed. He looked angry and concerned. House's eyes opened and the tiger was unleashed.

"You're an idiot," there was no explosive rage. James' voice was low and calm, "You nearly killed yourself."

House struggled to lean on his elbows, "That was the whole idea."

"You _wanted_ to kill yourself," there was a hint of disbelief.

"I wanted to _nearly_ kill myself. Is he…better," House asked at last.

Wilson ignored the attempted diversion, "Maybe you didn't want to die, but you didn't care if you lived!"

House glared at his friend, "You insisted that I need to see for myself!"

"I meant talk to the guy, not go jabbing a fork in the toaster," Wilson exclaimed as he walked around to the head of the bed.

House scowled, "Was he discharged?"

"Why?"

"I need to talk to him."

Wilson sighed deeply, hands on hips, "He…died, almost an hour ago. Apparently, it's bad to electrocute yourself within days of suffering massive internal injuries. Why do you need to talk to him? Did you…see…something?

House didn't respond. He focused on fiddling with the blankets, his eyes lighting on the forest green one that usually lay on their bed.

"House? What did you see," Wilson was curious now.

"Nothing," House murmured with a hint of frustration.

"Nothing-you-don't-want-to-talk-about-it or nothing..." Wilson trailed off, his curiosity turning into concern.

House was still fiddling with the blanket, "Where's Buffy?"

James had known it was coming, he'd had hours to think of what to tell him, but he hadn't figured it out.

"She's gone," his tone was soft.

House frowned, "She took the girls patrolling? When will she be back?"

It almost broke Wilson's heart to see his friend this way, he shook his head slowly, "I'm not sure she will be back."

House's now IV free arm lashed out and knocked the stand to the ground with a clatter.

"Dammit," he screamed, clenching his burned hand around the blanket and pressing himself back down into the bed. "God dammit!"

He was in pain, and just like always with Buffy, it wasn't his leg or any other physical injury. It was his heart.

_

* * *

_

Monday, October 21

_st_

Buffy Anne Summers originally of Los Angeles, California was supposed to be getting married in ten days. Straightening her clothes she kissed a sleeping Faith's forehead.

"Maybe you won't miss my wedding after all," she whispered. "I wanted you to be my maid of honor, my sister."

Wiping the beginnings of a tear away, Buffy tugged on her boots before lacing them up with more force than strictly necessary.

"I had the strangest dream, you were there, asleep, I just want to talk to you again. Maybe you'd be able to smack some sense into H…Caleb was there too. He kept telling me there has to be a balance—I think he means you. And God, if I have to fight him again, I'd do it a thousand times, just to have you back."

Faith's face was creased by a faint smile, almost like she could feel the power flowing into her from her sister slayer.

Buffy sighed and squeezed the dark haired girl's hand one more time, "I'm running away again. It's kind of nice when your ex-boyfriends have control of a private jet—even if they do work for the belly of the beast."

She laughed humorlessly.

* * *

"Hi!" Fred grinned cheerfully from beside the limousine Angel had sent.

Buffy pasted on a smile and extended her arms to the slightly shy scientist, "Hey Fred, it's great to see you again."

Fred tucked herself into Buffy's arms, hugging the shorter girl happily. Buffy and Fred had become friends upon their first meeting. Fred of course had heard a couple dozen stories about the famed slayer, but had decided that Buffy was absolutely darling and not at all frightening. Fred in all her good-natured glory had helped bring Buffy out of the shell she'd built after the destruction of Sunnydale.

"Are you here to see Angel and Spike," Fred asked eagerly.

"Sort of," Buffy shrugged. "But that's not to say I didn't want to see you too…and maybe Wesley—he back to wearing leather yet?"

Fred shook her head sadly, "No, but he stopped wearing ties again."

"Excellent," Buffy giggled. "Now all we have to do is destroy every single pair pants he owns."

Fred covered her mouth, effectively hiding the rather conspiratorially smile that was growing.

* * *

"Buffy, love," Spike called from the stairs as he practically slid down them.

"Hey Blondie-Bear," Spike winced.

"I swear I'm going to kill her," Spike muttered darkly before pasting a smile on. "You seen Tall, Dark, and Forehead yet?"

Buffy cocked her head to the side and wrapped herself around Spike in a bone-crushing hug, which was quite possible when a slayer is attempting it.

Spike groaned, "Alright, I'm sorry, what did I do?"

Buffy shook her head against Spike's chest but loosened her hold, "Not you."

Spike exhaled heavily and pulled away from her, "Come on, we better go find Peaches before you spill your metaphorical guts."

* * *

"….just like stupid Owen and stupid Captain Cardboard," Buffy finished ranting and dropped down onto the couch between her two favorite vampires.

Each wrapped and arm around her, trying to pull her to them. A glare over her head and a few mouthed words were all it took for Buffy to cross her arms in annoyance.

"Are you two done playing Macho Vamp?"

Spike stroked her hair, "It's okay, Pet. I promised I'd kill him if he hurt you, 'sides, I think Fred's got some new acid she invented that needs testin'."

Buffy shrugged, "Oz threatened to 'Shovel' him for me too."

"I know I'm not into killing, but I could make an exception—I mean accident," Angel corrected himself.

Buffy smiled and snuggled back into the couch, "What would I do without my faithful watch-vampires and watch-wolf?"

Spike shrugged before snickering, "Get Lightsaber-boy to protect you?"

* * *

Please review, I've been sad to see a decline—although that happens with every story—meh, I just like to hear what you all have to say—and yes, on this chapter I'll take your flames and giggle uncontrollably because I know something you don't know…..wow—apparently writing late at night turns me into a four year old.


	16. Restless

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.

A/N: Oh and a note to remember—I'm not so strict on the W&H stuff, so no Illryia—just plain old lovable Fred. Heh, this chapter has been kicking my ass for months. When I finally got inspired back in October, my computer crapped out and lost part of my favorite bit of the chapter—I was sorta dejected and put it off. Then December brought my month long story which ended up being 50 something thousand words for NCIS. Now I finally got this done.

_

* * *

_

Wednesday, October 23rd

It started with a locked door, and the slowly sinking feeling within the near hollow man told him that it would end with a knife.

* * *

The phone beeped angrily, House sighed, of course today had to be the day his charger went missing and Melody _accidentally_ broke the house phone. His cell clacked closed with a sense of finality. His gut was twisting in on itself…for two days now he'd sat in a huddled mess on the couch. A huddled, unwashed, mess. Surprisingly Wilson, Cuddy, _and_ Cameron had all left him alone. He hadn't really noticed. He'd spent every second quite occupied. He'd screamed at nothing, brooded, ruminated, and left pleading, and tearful messages for Buffy.

Messages he was only half certain she'd heard. There was some chance that Andrew had a direct line to wherever she was…though his rationale side said she'd run to Spike…and Angel. He'd lost count of how many messages he'd left…30 in the past six hours—that seemed about right.

The door swung inward and a disgusted groan issued from the newest visitor, "What the hell died in here."

"Go away," House tried to growl at the Australian vermin.

"Right, that's not going to happen," Chase picked his way carefully around the various landmines until he stood in front of his former boss. "Since no one else is going to say it, I will. You're smart, a genius, but your human, fallible. You fucked up, royally, you deserve nothing more than to rot in the trash. You hurt someone who doesn't deserve your bullshit—I never understood what Buffy saw in you, you're a self-centered asshole!"

House actually managed a glare this time, "Thanks for the pep talk, now get the hell out."

"No," Chase frowned putting his hands on his hips. "Now you're going to get up, get in the damn shower and shave off that rat growing on your lip, and go to work. And not just because Foreman's back and I don't enjoy him getting what he wants, which is your job."

Under the glare of a man who'd clearly spent too much time with Buffy, House levered himself off the couch, one hand wrapped around his cane and the other around an untouched bottle of vicodin.

* * *

Gunn leaned back against the wall, "Well in my professional opinion, I couldn't really recommend making a deal with the devil, I mean there's always fine print."

He frowned when all he got were blank stares, "Lawyer joke," he dismissed it.

"Ahh," Buffy replied knowingly. "What about if I argue I am Death? Think I could get away with it then?"

Fred snickered from behind her heavy goggles, "I don't understand what's so bad about it…I thought they were sort of cute."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Yeah, and you also thought Norman Bates was sweet."

"She's got a point," Gunn smirked. "I think Buffy has a point about this. I mean, the local vamp population hasn't been too thrilled with the stake to their image. I heard they've been planning the 'accident' but the levelheaded ones think it'll be too obvious."

Fred pouted as she turned the grilled cheese over the Bunsen burner, "But it's so sweet."

Buffy rolled her eyes and flicked a stray test tube away from her, "Coming from a girl who's dated not one, but two vamps, and been bit by another two, it's not all sparkly vamps and skipping through the meadows. Girls like that give the rest of us a bad name…stupid Charlie Brown girl."

Fred nearly whipped the finished sandwich at the slayer, "You don't have to be so cynical."

Buffy and Gunn traded a glance, "So about that Death argument?"

"We're just talking about one measly person, right?"

"Totally," Buffy confirmed.

Gunn tipped his head to the side, "Well, I am good, and if I couldn't get you out I'm almost certain you'd have almost as big a fan base as Charlie Manson and an even bigger hate-base."

"Pluses all around," Buffy responded cheerfully.

Fred huffed again, "Heartless."

"Lawyer!"

"Death!"

Two perfectly good excuses…well, if you were faced with an irate mad scientist type.

_

* * *

_

Thursday, October 24th

Eric Foreman scowled at the auditorium full of fellowship applicants. Of course his gaze quite quickly landed on the current object of his displeasure. A rather surly Gregory House—when Cameron had told him what had happened he'd wanted to smack his former boss upside the head. Buffy was his friend too, and he was supposed to be in the wedding party—well, that remained to be seen.

Staring at House, Foreman's thoughts drifted to his re-employment at Princeton Plainsboro. He had no delusions—he had no power there. He wasn't House 2.0, and he wasn't a fellow anymore. He may have taken on being House's 'sheepdog', but even that was hardly necessary anymore. It was odd to not fit anywhere. Chase and Cameron had both found something they enjoyed doing. But a strange sensation told him that eventually all three of them would crawl back to House.

* * *

Buffy twisted under the covers. Two solid masses kept her from moving too far, or too fast. As upset, irritated, and generally unstable as Buffy was, even she didn't want to wake two sleeping vampires who might smother her with attention…or pillows.

It had been a long day of sneaking about the law firm and playing games with Spike—much to Angel's annoyance. She was almost relaxed.

'Almost' was the key word. Life had changed so much since Sunnydale. There had been death and victory and losses and sometimes a little peace. Relaxation had always been little and far between. But as always, she'd been able to find some solace in the arms of one of her vampires. It was true she had no claim on them now, but their bond had transcended simplicities like relationships and time. They were constants in a world in upheaval.

A frigid arm snaked around her waist in unconscious attempt to win an ongoing battle with Angel.

Buffy stifled her laughter—this is why she ran here. She needed something to remind her that not everything was Doomed.

* * *

Lorne frowned as the slayer tipped back the purple-ish colored drink.

"Grapey," was her only response.

"Exactly what I was going for. I was thinking about naming it something like Grapequill."

Buffy shrugged, "It does have that cough syrup aftertaste."

"Yeah, you should have seen angel when I made him taste my last drink," Lorne snickered.

"Wait a minute," Buffy frowned as she rifled through her memories. "Is that the one that was pale blue and had purple cotton candy on top?"

"Spike?"

"He emailed me the video. It kind of frightens me that the Big Bad is techno-abled. Oh but Angel looked like he gagged on his hair gel."

Lorne winked at the slayer, "Well what did you expect him to do when he finds out its called BlueBalls."

"Seriously," the blonde asked the demon.

"Entirely, although our little Meringue popped his head in and claimed it was named after Angelcakes himself," Lorne sighed. "I thought my number was up."

"You should know better than to say anything incriminating in front of Spike, he'll twist for his own evil and torture Angel," Buffy reminded Lorne.

Lorne nodded took another heavy draft of the purple mixed drink, "I realized that after Angel made me listen to him sing. I didn't think it was possible for him to get worse."

Buffy shook her head, "Never underestimate a vampire on a mission."

"Amen to that, Sister," Lorne chuckled.

Buffy and Lorne chatted amicably for several more minutes before Lorne pressed his luck, "You're still wearing it."

She stiffened as the metal around her finger seemingly tightened, "Yeah."

"Why?"

"I can't seem to take it off, I just, I don't want it to be over, I thought everything was finally falling into place," Buffy sighed.

Lorne slung an arm around the slayer, "Do you want it to be?"

"I don't know, you tell me," she laughed ironically.

Lorne shook his head, "Oh I don't need to read you, Cream-Puff, to know what you're feeling."

"Why's that," Buffy asked.

"It's all in your eyes," Lorne tilted her chin up so he could look her in the eyes. "You know what needs doing."

Sticking her tongue out, Buffy downed the last of her drink.

Lorne sought to lighten the mood, and he did. "Now I have to think up a drink for Wes."

Buffy moaned and licked her lips, "He's, mmm, leather covered chocolatey goodness."

Lorne nodded his head in agreement, "Too bad he stopped wearing leather."

Buffy sighed before giving a saucy wink, "Fred and I are working on it."

* * *

Legs kicked over the banister, dangling in thin air above the lobby. Buffy perched on the thin metal barrier. It was so quiet it was almost wrong. She'd been at Wolfram and Hart before and today was no exception to the list of exceptions that it was. The slayer could feel their eyes on her. She was famous, a survivor, the one. They tried not to look, afraid of what she might do if she caught them staring. She hated it.

Her eyes shifted back to the day unfolding beneath her. Lawyers scurried about, carting papers and clients here and there. It was easy to understand why this place was so magical. Even if it was evil. Everything was ordered, ordered chaos to be sure, but it had an underlying calmness.

A jester's smile curled the edges of Buffy's lips as she spotted a familiar face, Wes. The grin grew to a downright smirk when a G'sehwio'lk demon sneezed on him. The only suit he had left, not the Wes knew that, was effectively ruined. Buffy took both hands off the railing to clamp over her mouth. She had this unreasonable fear that Wes would hear the laughter and know. She watched the ex-watcher bristle before nodding curtly to the demon and exiting stage left to go home and change his clothes.

"Hi," a chirpy voice nearly made Buffy unbalance and go tumbling into nothingness.

Swinging her legs over to the right side of the banister, Buffy let herself drop to the floor, "Way to scare me to falling to my death!"

Fred giggled softly, "You remind me of Spike and Angel so much sometimes."

Buffy face contorted in disgust, "Great, my life is complete."

The other woman laughed again, "I know! Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go grab lunch?"

Buffy wavered, before crooking her finger in a come-hither motion, "Can't we're about to be axe murdered."

Fred's eyes went comically wide in actual fear, "Oh dear."

The slayer cleared her throat with slight embarrassment, "Wes is about to find out we got rid of all his clothing."

Fred's fear turned to panic. The duo had managed to sneak into Wesley's home and grab everything resembling tweed and not leather, and disposed of it properly. The pair had made a jaunt to a not so local homeless shelter.

Buffy paused, "Though, maybe in retrospect, we should have burnt all of it to save the homeless from that horror of tweed."

"Maybe," Fred gave a thoughtful nod.

They stood in silence, wondering which option would have been better, that was until Buffy's eyes lit upon the demon that was about to get them killed.

"We have to hide," she practically yelped.

Fred nodded frantically, "Oh, I have my lab!"

Buffy whimpered, "Not fair."

Snickering Fred backed away from the slayer, "I, um…have to go do a toxic experiment, and I only have the one biohazard suit…sorry. Bye!"

The scientist backed herself right into the elevator that would take her right down to the safety of her lab.

Resisting the urge to stomp her feet like a child, Buffy looked both ways and started mission impossible-ing her way to Angel and Spike's office.

* * *

Both vampires were Missing In Action, although Buffy had a strong suspicion that one or both may have locked the other in a storage room in an attempt to have more Buffy-time. They were children in centuries old bodies. Buffy swore that one day she'd find them super glued together due to their shenanigans.

"Shenanigans," she laughed at the word.

The phone on the desk rang, she picked it up with a grin worthy of the joker, "Tall, Dark, and Forehead, how may we help you?"

On the other end, Andrew giggled, "Does Angel know you answer his phone like that?"

Buffy shrugged, "The better question is, does he really not expect me to answer it like that after spending so much time with Captain Peroxide?"

And muttered noncommittally, "So how's things?"

"Good, you know, drinking, watching Passions in bed with two vampires, life. How are the girls," Buffy asked.

There was some grunting from Andrew's end before a female voice spoke, "Buffy!"

"Melody," the older slayer spoke slowly. "You didn't kill Andrew, did you? Because he's kind of like a cockroach, a lovable cockroach, but a cockroach nonetheless, he just keeps coming back."

"No, Emmy and I just tied him up, we miss you," Melody's tone was somber.

Buffy winced, "I miss you girls too."

Melody gave a triumphant snort, "Good, then come home!"

Buffy winced, "I…"

This time it was Emmy who answered, "You're not ready yet?"

Buffy nodded and leaned back in the chair, "Yeah. How is…um, Oz?"

"He's not doing so good, full moon in a few days, you should come home," Emmy read between the lines.

Buffy shook her head of the guilt that was settling in, "Uh, I have to go, I'll talk to you later."

She hung up without an answer, her stomach turning unpleasantly. Her left hand felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as it rested on the phone.

_

* * *

_

Friday, October 25_th_

It had taken most of Buffy's slayer skills to avoid Wes and a dollop of luck, of course, her luck was known to run out at the worst times possible.

An elevator.

Buffy tried to make herself look as small as possible, which wasn't all that difficult, but Wes still advanced like a hyena on a freshly poached kill.

"Buffy," his cool, British voice booked no argument.

"Wes," Buffy tried to smile. "Looking good."

His arms formed a cage around her, trapping the slayer against the elevator wall, "Really?"

Buffy whimpered and tried to shrink down, but Wes had grown a spine made of diamonds. Speaking would have only gotten her killed, she might have been the slayer, but she still knew a healthy dose of fear was, well, healthy.

"I'm innocent," she shrieked and pulled her arms up to shield her face from Wes. "It was all Fred!"

Wes chuckled, "Good to know you still have some self-preservation."

Buffy's shoulders dropped and she peered at the Brit, "Oh, you're evil!"

"Dinner," Wes asked.

"Are you going to poison me," Buffy asked, bottom lip jutting out.

"No," Wes shook his head. "Are you going to tell me why all I have left is a pair of leather pants, and a leather vest?"

Buffy giggled, her face cracking into a brilliant smile, "Sexy, so where'd you get the shirt?"

"Gunn," was the short answer.

Buffy's jaw dropped and she cocked her head curiously at the man, "Are you going commando? I mean, I know we answered the boxers or briefs question the when we rescued you from your clothing, but did you borrow underwear from Gunn too?"

Wes shook his head, eyes darkening, "You're a dog with a bone."

Buffy shrugged, "So, where are you taking me?"

* * *

Picking at their onion blossom in the demon bar, Buffy shifted and took another shot of jack.

"So," Wes started. "How are you really?"

Buffy stuck her tongue out, the alcohol starting to loosen her tongue metaphorically, "Sucky."

Wes tipped his beer back, "Elaborate?"

"Sure, if you drop the ten dollar words," Buffy snorted. "I'm angry. With him, and me. And I feel guilty for leaving like I did. And I…I don't know what I'm doing."

She dropped her head pathetically on Wes' shoulder.

"You love him," it wasn't a question, it was a statement. "What happened?"

Buffy laughed dryly, "He did what every single one of my romantic interests has ever done. Try to get themselves killed. There was Pike and his whole Rambo phase, and then Owen with his adrenaline, and Angel with his guilt, and Scott hung out with a monster, oh, not to mention Ford who wanted to be vamped, and Tom, who was evil snake worshipper, like Voldemort. Then there was Fishboy Cameron, and Parker who was aiming to be slaughtered, Riley who liked to get suckjobs, and Ben who was Glory, and Spike who died to save the world and then came back, and Robin who wanted to kill Spike. And now, I find out that Greg shoved a knife in an electrical outlet. Am I a magnet for people who have death wishes?"

Wes' frown deepened as Buffy rambled, "No, I don't think so. Hmm, do you know why they did what they did?"

"Yeah," Buffy sighed. "Well, except Greg, but I'm sure I could guess."

Wes cleared his throat, "Perhaps you shouldn't guess. If you love him, and he loves you, then you should talk to him, let him explain. Hell, even if you just go to yell at him, you need closure."

Buffy nodded, "You gonna quit wearing tweed?"

"I suppose," Wes shrugged.

"Sweet," Buffy grinned and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

_

* * *

_

Sunday, October 27_th_

Lying between Spike and Angel, Buffy was as restless as ever. She'd spent hours upon hours thinking, and she was burning inside from the turmoil. Staring at Spike's unconscious body, she had to admit that she couldn't stay any longer. It wasn't fair to either of them, any of them, to keep them waiting on her strings. Sliding her legs out from under the covers, Buffy leaned over to Angel and whispered his name.

"Angel, love you," she murmured.

Just as she suspected he was so worn out nothing would wake him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, Buffy turned to run a hand through Spike's slicked back hair.

"Always did like you with curls, love you too," she whispered into his hair.

She kissed him too, it was just as gentle, but there was a thank you in that kiss. Thanks for understanding why she hadn't come running back to him.

Shaking herself, Buffy slipped off the bed and tucked her vampires back in, they looked so innocent sometimes. Other times they looked like pure sin. She moved around the room they had shared during her stay in complete silence. Gathering things she'd bought during shopping trips. Biting her lip, Buffy cast one last glance back at her boys and headed down to the lobby.

The sun was only just coming up on the world, and there leaning against the front door was Wes. Holding a travel mug out to her, he knew.

She brushed away the tear that was threatening to fall, "Thank you."  
He just nodded and gave her a quick pat on the shoulder before taking the stairs up to the second level.

Buffy frowned as she realized there was a limo sitting on the curb, Wes was something else.

* * *

Lorne sighed as he watched the petite Slayer collecting herself in the lobby. Turning to Wes he shook his head.

He ran a hand through his already unruly hair, "I hope she knows what she has to do, I hate seeing her unhappy, after all she's been through."

"Our Little Crème Brule has it under control," Lorne gave a small smile of pride.

* * *

Getting out of the cab in front of what she had come to consider her home, Buffy Summers twisted the ring on her finger. Collecting her bags, Buffy paid the man and started up the stairs. It was with some hesitancy that she knocked on the door, her face as blank as she could make it.

It wasn't Greg who opened the door, it was Wilson. His eyes shown with genuine shock, but he recovered quickly. He didn't say anything. He just picked up his keys and stood to the side to allow her to walk in. She nodded her thanks.

Once the door was closed, Wilson scrambled across to the other apartment and knocked frantically.

* * *

Buffy swallowed and dropped her bags as House hobbled into the living room, calling for James.

"Buffy," his voice was a soft, like he thought maybe she was a hallucination.

She didn't move, "You don't look good."

He snorted harshly and pointed at the still untouched bottle of vicodin on the front table. Buffy shook her head before looking skyward. This was harder than she thought.

"Have you completely lost it," Buffy muttered.

House nodded, "I don't know, I don't even know if it's really you, I haven't taken anything for the pain in days and I can't…"

She was shaking, and her chest was tight, her eyes stung, "I, I'm really here."

* * *

The moment Andrew opened the door. Wilson tumbled inside and slammed the door shut.

"She's back," he nearly screamed.

Emmy and Melody shot up from their places on the couch, "Buffy?"

Andrew started to jump up and down giddily. Devon and the rest of the band were scattered around the base of the couch, tossing paper balls at each other. They stared at doctor in surprise. In two seconds flat every person scrambled for the door.

Oz got there first, he barred the door and spoke with a rare strength, "No, if you go running over there right now, you'll throw everything into hell. They need to talk. So sit down and watch the movie. Buffy will come over here when she's ready and things are settled."

* * *

Greg stumbled forward, arms outstretched to grab Buffy and pull her into a hug. She stepped back at the last moment, lifting her hand to rest on his chest.

She took a shaky breath, "No."

"No," he repeated, his whole frame slumped, his face went slack.

It made goose pimples erupt along her flesh when House dropped his arms and took a step back, completely ignoring the pain that had to be shooting through his body.

This time, it was Buffy who reached out, resting one hand lightly against Greg's cheek. "We need to talk, and I don't know."

House nodded frantically and grabbed her hand from his cheek and rushed over to the couch, "Talk, we'll talk!"

Reluctantly, Buffy pulled her hand out of House's and settled on the couch, putting a good distance between their bodies. Silence reigned. Neither quite sure where to start, or what to even begin to say.

"Do you want something to eat, or to drink, I can make you something, or I we can get Chinese," House rambled desperately as he tried to clear his thoughts.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," Buffy murmured.

Greg nodded.

"What, um, how did, where did everything go wrong," Buffy asked shakily. "How the hell did you end up unconscious and smoking on your office floor!"

House's eyes slid closed at her exclamation, "I…I had to—"

"You had to what," Buffy glared.

Greg rubbed a hand over his face, "I had to know. The way you talked about when you died, I had to know."

"Had to know what, if I loved you, if I was happy," her voice was deadly soft, shock and disappointment overwhelming her.

His voice was equally quiet, "I don't know, maybe."

"Why didn't you just ask," Buffy floundered.

House started to fidget, pain edging in on him, "I don't know, I was—afraid!"

Buffy scooted closer in shock. She cradled his face in her hands, "Tell me what happened."

"He came in and electrocuted himself, right in front of me, said he died for 90 seconds and what he saw was—bliss. And now he's dead," Greg rattled off, this was easier, it was fact.

Buffy nodded as calmly as she could, "Okay, and then what?"

"He was desperate to get back, I kept, I thought—I started wondering if you were happy, because you'd seen that, for more than a freaking minute and a half!"

Buffy pulled House into a rough hug, "I wasn't, for a long time, but after a while, I stopped missing it so much, and then I met you, and I was happy, happier than I remembered being for a long time. And then you did this.

"What did you see," Buffy asked.

House frowned, "Nothing, and I'm terrified, just darkness, nothing, is that it?"

"I didn't see anything either, my first time," Buffy whispered, her eyes slipping closed, remembering.

"Why," Greg asked softly, never wanting to let Buffy go.

Buffy sat back from the hug and shook her head, "We ended up living. Do you see, what happens when you do see something—you'll die to get back to it."

"And you did," House surmised.

"Yeah," Buffy admitted her eyes dark with pain. "Wanted to, for a long time after, and up until a few days ago, I had so much to live for."

House didn't say anything, Buffy pulled away and stood up, pacing, "I seriously thought about leaving you, never coming back."

That elicited a reaction, "Why didn't you? You could do better."

He laughed mirthlessly and Buffy plopped back onto the couch, the fight draining from her.

"Does it look I want to do better, you idiot," Buffy snickered. "I love you, but if you ever do anything that fucking stupid again, I'm done."

House nodded, reaching over to brush the tears that were rolling down Buffy's cheeks, "I'm so sorry. I love you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He was crying too, his voice cracking as he repeated the apology. Begging forgiveness. Buffy shook as she held his head in her lap, their tears falling steadily.

* * *

It had been hours since the tears had abated and Buffy and Greg had lain down in each other's arms, simple physical contact enough to begin healing the crevasse between them.

Sitting up, Buffy slipped out of House's firm grasp despite his strong protestation. Wiping the last of the dampness from her face, the slayer padded into the kitchen and poured a glass of water before grabbing the vicodin and sitting back on the couch.

"You need your medicine," she whispered. "You have to stop doing this, punishing yourself."

House shrugged and accepted the glass and pills, "I couldn't feel anything when Wilson told me you were gone."

"It's okay, I'm here, just take the damn vicodin so I can put you to bed and then I can go tell Andrew he still has a wedding to pull off," Buffy stroked his back comfortingly.

Greg swallowed the pain killers meekly before grabbing Buffy's hand and kissing it, "I don't want to go to bed without you, I don't want to fall asleep without you again."

She nodded, tears pricking at her eyes once again, "Okay, let me just go check in, two minutes, alright."

Tiredly, the pair managed to limp into their bedroom. Buffy helped Greg into bed, kissing him sweetly on the forehead.

"You know, the whole time, I couldn't bear to take my ring off," it was said in a laughing tone. "Be right back, promise."

House nodded, already half asleep, but fighting the pain and the drugs as they started to weigh on him heavily.

* * *

It was Oz who opened the door of Andrew's apartment for Buffy. They didn't need words. He merely pulled Buffy into an encompassing hug. She reciprocated, staring over his shoulder at the faces that were deep asleep. Devon and Jackson and Rowley, Andrew and Emmy and Melody, and James, all of them were draped across furniture, the TV still playing a movie.

"I'm home," Buffy told the werewolf unnecessarily.

Oz nodded, "No shovel?"

Buffy shook her head, "No shovel."

Oz sighed dramatically, "And I'd just pulled it out of storage."

"Yeah," Buffy smiled in lieu of laughter.

Oz let his hand fall to the small of her back, inviting her in. Buffy smiled briefly and walked into the full room. Pacing around the room, Buffy let her fingers drift through all of her friend's hair. Starting with the Dingoes and moving on to Emmy and Melody, then Andrew. She ended with James.

When she did get to Andrew, she brushed a soft kiss to the geek's cheek, "Hey, Andrew, hope you're ready to play wedding fairy."

Turning Buffy shook herself and turned to James.

Buffy crouched down, "Thank you, for keeping him alive while I was gone."

"Huh," James murmured, his eyes cracking open. "Buffy? Is everything, are you leaving?"

Buffy shook her head, "Not getting rid of me that easy, sleep, I should get back to him, come see us tomorrow."

* * *

Buffy shed her clothing on the way back to the bedroom, shirt, shoes, and pants abandoned before she even hit the open door. She paused there and looked at the man she loved, he was half asleep, but he was trying to keep himself awake. Stripping off the last of her undergarments, Buffy walked over to the dresser, Buffy plucked one of House's quirky little t-shirts. Tugging it over her head, Buffy tiptoed around the mess of the room to climb into bed.

Proving his strength, Greg slid his arm across the bed, pulling at Buffy's arm, dragging her closer to him.

Buffy could only smile and scoot closer, curling against House.

"Love you," Greg murmured.

"Me too," Buffy whispered.

With one last kiss, House succumbed to the drugs and Buffy to exhaustion, both feeling more at peace than they had in days.

* * *

Yay, so please reviews, I hope you enjoyed this whole chapter, especially since you've had to wait so long. Please review, so that I have a little feedback to encourage my muse—he's been fickle lately no matter how much I feed him.


	17. Creeps and Freaks

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.  
A/N: Once again writing has kicked my ass. It doesn't help that I have a ton of work to do and sometimes I get easily distracted. So pretty please forgive me for being so long away.

_

* * *

Monday, October 28__th_

"Wilson's Doughnut Delivery," James called loudly, his voice cracking slightly.

He knocked again on the door, balancing a box of doughnuts atop a tray of coffee. It was nearly noon but Wilson had only been up for about an hour. It had been a quick trip home to change out of his rumpled suit and then a stop at the coffee shop to pick up breakfast for the Buffy, House, and himself. With one last nearly exasperated knock, Wilson's thoughts strayed to devouring the doughnuts by himself in the stairwell. He winced when he realized he was practically drooling over the sugary-goodness, damn Buffy for being so infectious.

* * *

Buffy shivered beneath the covers despite the warmth, she scooted closer to Greg. She frowned when he murmured something entirely unintelligible.

"More," she asked softly.

He shook his head, dark hair mussing even more. It had been a long night, sleeping side by side, waking only to cajole House into downing more vicodin so he could sleep and get some relief.

Something else was pushing in at the edge of her senses, noise. Not the phone or the coffee pot, no, it wasn't Andrew or any of the girls. Wilson, she sat up with a moan.

"Come on, Babe," Buffy muttered while dragging a hand over her face. "James is here, I promised him he could visit for a little while."

House grunted something and pulled the covers up over his head.

Buffy snickered, "That's attractive."

Again, House mumbled something, but Buffy was already making tracks towards the front door. She swung it open in little more than her skivvies and one of House's shirts.

"Good morning," James purred.

Buffy's eyes snapped into slits, "Perv."

Wilson shrugged and walked past Buffy and into the apartment, "So, Sleeping Beauty still asleep, or do I have to worry finding a body?"

Taking a seat across from James on the sofa, Buffy stifled her yawn and cast a glance at the bedroom door. James snorted slightly at his own humor and started to rifle with his 'presents'.

With a sigh, Buffy took the proffered cup of coffee, "He's still alive."

Wilson quirked an eyebrow, "I'm sensing a big 'but' in that statement."

"You wouldn't be wrong. He really did a number on himself," Buffy's toes curled with the knowledge that it was really her fault.

James nodded slowly, "Yeah. How are you?"

"Better, good in fact," Buffy smiled faintly. "I almost wasn't. I thought about disappearing for a while, but I needed answers."

"I'm glad you came back," Wilson leaned across the space between them and patted her hand affectionately.

"You're only happy she's back because you like looking at _my_ girl," House smirked at his friend from the doorway of the bedroom.

"I do not," James declared indignantly.

Buffy shrugged her shoulders, "You do like to look."

Wilson picked up a doughnut and tore into it viciously, "Brats."

House hobbled over, leaning heavily on his cane, "Do I get a doughnut?"

"Are you going to apologize," James returned.

While the pair had a glaring contest, Buffy snagged the box of sugary goodness and proceeded to wolf down three of the remaining five doughnuts. Wiping her mouth daintily, Buffy stood up and stretched.

"That was yummy."

House and Wilson turned to look up at her, then down at the nearly empty box.

"Evil," Wilson claimed.

"Diabolically," Greg agreed.

Buffy smirked, "What else would you have me be?"

"Allergic to sugar," House muttered darkly.

James frowned and leaned back in his chair, "Well, it's good to see you two are back to normal. Now maybe Foreman can get off his high-horse."

Buffy cocked her head to the side, "Sure it's not a stick?"

A new wave of laughter filled the room and Buffy smiled triumphantly.

This was how it was supposed to be, this was _Home_.

"Speaking of Foreman," Buffy rolled the thought around her brainpan. "Don't you all have work to be going to, any of this, I don't know, ringing a giant bell?"

"No," both boys answered immediately.

"Me thinks you answer _way_ too fast to be telling the truth," Buffy rolled her eyes at them.

James squirmed under Buffy's gaze, "I called in!"

House growled lightly, "Great, now Cuddy's never going to let me stay home from school."

Buffy rolled her eyes and stretched stiff and sore muscles, "Give me the phone, and then take a shower."

"Please," Wilson seconded her request.

House lifted an arm and delicately sniffed, "What, I don't smell that bad."

Buffy covered her nose and mouth with a hand and rubbed the back of her neck with the other hand, "Wake the dead. And I should know."

House growled at his fiancée and stomped off to the shower.

Wilson sighed in glee, "Thank you, I was just about to declare quarantine and send in the CDC, I think he actually grew his own new type of spore in the sink."

"I heard that," House yelled from behind two closed doors. "And don't talk about Spunky!"

Buffy swallowed in disgust, "He named it?"

* * *

"Lisa Cuddy," Cuddy held the phone to her ear as she flicked through her folders, searching for an elusive form.

"Lisa," Buffy rolled her eyes. "Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?"

"Buffy," the older woman nearly yelled. "Where are you, are you…"

"Home," Buffy confirmed. "Unfortunately, Greg is very sick. I mean pus and blood, it's not pleasant. I'm keeping him home today."

Lisa smiled to herself and leaned back in her chair, "By all means, keep him. I don't need a new outbreak in my hospital. So, do I need to watch what I eat for the next few days, or can I break out the cookie dough ice cream?"

"Celery all the way, have you seen Andrew's schedule for me, and that was before I disappeared for a while," Buffy snickered.

Lisa groaned, "He asked me to confirm the dietary part of it. But hey, bachelorette party!"

Buffy echoed Lisa's groan, "Hell yes, and thank goodness we have Andrew as our chaperone for the little ones."

"Yep," Lisa agreed. "Allison and I have been planning, and we're going to have some fun. How do you feel about strippers?"

"Lisa," Buffy yelped. "They're not bad."

"Excellent," Lisa snickered happily. "I'm going to try and stop by after work, I'll bring Cameron if I can pull her away."

"Do you want to go for dinner," Buffy asked.

Cuddy pulled her pumps back on and straightened her suit jacket, "Let me get back to you, I'm going to go ask Cameron, and give her the good news."

* * *

The clicking of her heels was the only warning the emergency room got before they were blessed with the presence of their fuehrer, Dr. Lisa Cuddy.

"Sir, you have to remain still, please," a frustrated female voice entreated from behind a curtain.

Cuddy turned at the voice and stood next to the curtain, "Dr. Cameron?"

"Just a minute," Cameron grunted.

After a short shriek from the man on the bed and a sigh from the doctor, Cameron slipped out of the cordoned off area and nodded for a nurse to take over, handing the poor woman the action figure she'd retrieved.

"What can I do for you, Dr. Cuddy," Allison grinned as she stripped off her stained rubber gloves.

"Lunch," Lisa asked.

"I'm up for a break," Cameron chuckled dryly and followed her friend and boss to the cafeteria.

Once they were seated and sipping at their coffees, Allison broached the subject.

"News?"

"She's home, and we have a party to finish planning," Lisa grinned conspiratorially.

"Oh thank god," Allison moaned. "Does this mean we can stop walking on eggshells, and House will shower?"

"We can only hope," Cuddy grinned. "Oh, and Buffy was thinking dinner tonight, the three of us?"

"I could go for that," Allison picked up her panini. "There's this new grill downtown I've wanted to try."  
"Sounds good, we just can't tell Andrew, he's threatening to put us all on diets so we look good for the wedding, god forbid he find even one little bulge or zipper that doesn't zip."

* * *

Devon and Rowley were jumping up and down, psyching themselves up. It had been a long night, and today promised to be even longer. The only upside being that Buffy was home. Oh, and Oz had let the band off their insanely tight leash. Now that Devon thought of it, he'd been able to geek out more than normal without fear of his reputation being decimated, thanks to Andrew King of Geekdomia.

Both band members started to pound mercilessly at the door, hooting and howling like the monkeys they were all the while.

House opened the door, syringe in hand, "Don't make me sedate you two and call animal control."

Devon pouted as he tried to peer over Greg's shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of Buffy.

Rowley rolled his eyes, "Come on outside, we're having a picnic-party-thing."

Buffy smirked from her place on the couch, "We'll be out in a minute."

Rowley and Devon high fived and attempted to do a chest bump but epically failed when they somehow managed to keep a full centimeter between their chests, pouting, they walked out the front door.

House shuddered and swung the door closed as he muttered, "Damn dingoes."

Buffy grinned, "Now that you're all clean, and we're all alone…I want a hug."

"Fine, but you tell anybody about this…they never find your body," House threatened.

Buffy sighed, "Risk I'll have to take. So am I ever going to get to stop playing Secret Identity Girl at the hospital?"

House wrapped Buffy in a hug and thought about her question, "I don't know, I'm trying to figure out the most shocking way to tell the midgets I'm married."

Buffy pushed away from House and started towards the door, "Not married yet, Mister."

"Details," House called after her. "Hey, where did Wilson go?"

"Oh, he went to talk to Oz about some alternative therapy thing one of his patients is doing," Buffy told him."

"Alternative therapy, what like a hand-job a day keeps the doctor away," House asked innocently.

Not innocently enough as his jacket hit him full in the face.

* * *

The first thing House heard, unfortunately was his best friend's voice, "And welcome to the first annual Septathlon! Today you'll see three groups of two battle it out over seven events. The winners not only receive Jelly Donut Dibs, and one Free Pass for Ditching, but they'll also gain bragging rights!"

House winced, who in his right mind would put Jelly Donuts up for a prize. That almost guaranteed that there would be blood.

Oz led Buffy and House over to two lawn chairs that were set up beside the porch, beside the chairs was a table laden with Andrew Delicacies. Buffy shrugged, Andrew Food made almost anything bearable.

Wilson from his perch on the porch leaned into the microphone Andrew had pulled out of a mystery box.

"Let's meet our teams. Our first team at the ages of 24 and 14, please welcome Devon and Melody! Team Gigglestar!"

House choked on the hot chocolate he was drinking, "Gigglestar? Are you sure Andrew's the gay-ish one?"

Buffy shrugged, "And I thought only weird stuff happened on the hellmouth."

Wilson continued much to House's annoyance, "Team Rasta-Fett, at the ages of 20 and 15—"

"Andrew," House and Buffy surmised at the same time—who else would include Fett in their name.

"Andrew and Emmy! Rounding out our competitors we have two gentleman both at the age of 24, Rowley and Jackson who are…Styro Fruit! Officiating over these games, we have our referee, Tiger Twinky Oz!"

Out of the seven people now standing in the center of the road, Oz was the only one who wasn't dressed in some garish color of spandex.

Buffy dipped her fingers into her pocket, fishing for her cell phone, "I don't know about you, but I think the hospital has eight new patients. They've all gone nutszoid!"

House nodded, "Yeah, I mean the only person who _ever_ pulled off spandex well, was Wolverine."

Buffy whimpered, "They've infected you too!"

House snickered, "Nah, I may borrow a figurine from Andrew's collection every once in a millennia, but that doesn't mean I'm not the macho-macho-man you fell for."

Buffy shuddered as Greg draped an arm around her shoulders.

"Starting off the competition, we have a potato sack race, followed by a modified dodge ball, a sprint, a rope climb, high jumps, tires, and then, the mystery event! Let's remind our viewers how this game is played," Wilson purred through the MacGyvered sound system.

House and Buffy were entirely disturbed, they could only be thankful that Andrew insisted on documenting everything in his life—embarrassing and momentous alike.

"Each event is worth one point, the mystery event is worth a whopping four points. The team with the most points at the end is the winner. Let's kick things off!"

Oz hit one of Jackson's cymbals and the three teams were off. Potato Sack races require some amount of finesse, and that was something Devon and Melody certainly didn't have. They landed flat on their faces in two seconds flat, Rowley and Jackson weren't far behind with the falling flat thing. The almost dainty pair of Andrew and Emmy sped past quite reminiscently of the tortoise and the hare.

Surprisingly in the next event, Melody and Devon proved to be the more agile as they managed to avoid the hurtling tennis balls for the longest amount of time, Styro Fruit coming in second. Andrew and Emmy had surrendered before the first ball had been thrown.

Once again Rasta-Fett trumped during the sprint, but when it came time for the rope climb Buffy was curled up into a ball laughing. Rowley and Jackson had shimmied up the damn rope faster than a fireman going down a pole.

Rowley could only pout, "Mommy always said we were half howler monkey."

"Good days," Jackson snickered. "Remember that time during gym class?"

Rowley's eyes lit up, "When I refused to come down from the rafters, or the time Devon got stuck up there?"

Devon's lower lip quivered and he curled into the fetal position and proceeded to sulk like no one's business.

The high jumps went to Devon and Melody while the tires went to an ever triumphant Andrew and Emmy.

Wilson grinned around his secret Jelly Donut, "That brings us to the Mystery Event. The scores thus far are, with one point, Styro Fruit, with two points, Gigglestar, and with three points, Rasta-Fett. Who saw that coming? Not me, glad I didn't bet on this. Still, it's anyone's game with four points resting on this last event."

Oz motioned for the three teams to line up at the end of the block.

Wilson smirked, his friends were actually enjoying themselves, plus this was great blackmail material later on in life.

"The final event…is a game of Leap Frog! The first team across the finish line will be the winner."

Oz signaled the start and all three teams hopped off. Buffy watched in muted horror as all six of her friends and family started jumping on each other.

Buffy hid her face in House's shoulder, "Tell me when it's over. I don't want to be any more scarred than I already am."

"Holy mackerel in a trout stream," House deadpanned after a few moments.

Buffy opened her eyes to see Rowley and Jackson leaping across the finish line. Oz was having just as much trouble accepting what had just happened.

Jackson stood up proudly as the other four meandered over rather dejectedly, "Mommy always said the other half of us was Taiwan Jumping Frog."

"Weird," Buffy, House, and Oz all muttered together.

After a few minutes of unbridled laughter and shouting, Buffy scratched her head.

"Something's not right here…Melody, Emmy, why aren't you two in school," Buffy asked, finally putting her tongue on what had been niggling at her senses.

Both girls shrugged, "Andrew called us in."

"Oh," Buffy sighed. "Well, at least he didn't con you into having light saber battles with him in exchange."

Both girls darkened, and House snorted, "Oh-My-God! He did!"

Andrew smirked, "You have much to learn young Padawans."

"Creepy," House replied succinctly.

And it was.

* * *

So sorry i took so long, please review, i'm trying to get back into the swing of things. One and a half months left of school which should help that situation. But do please love me...hehehe.


	18. Preparation, Preparation, Wait, What?

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.  
A/N: Ugh, I hate the heat, and yes I know, I have been failing epically at the whole writing thing. Cheers

_

* * *

Monday, October 28__th_

Buffy's head dropped onto the table with a thud, "Remind me why I'm doing this again?"

"Because you love your friends, and you don't want us to go crazy dealing with the cretin," Cuddy smiled brightly.

Cameron bit her lip to keep from laughing, "You love him, and he loves you."

"I know," Buffy sniffled. "But the courthouse is starting to look damn good."

"Buck up," Cuddy nudged the younger woman. "A few days and everything will be over with."

Buffy only groaned.

"So, we have the license, the dresses, suits," Cameron listed. "And what am I forgetting?"

"My sanity," Buffy offered 'helpfully'.

Cuddy frowned and whacked the girl with a spare pad of paper, "Hey, this is your fault."

Buffy lifted her head off the table, "Actually, if you want to be technical, this is James' fault!"

"Well, you can have Melody give him a wedgie later," Alison offered offhandedly as she perused her list.

"Flowers," Lisa blurted. "Did we say flowers?"

"I think Andrew is doing that," Buffy muttered darkly. "And the music is Oz and Dev, um, John and Blythe are coming in on Wednesday evening, so that's set. Wes, Fred, and Gunn will be here on Thursday morning, and what am I forgetting?"

The slayer pushed her sweater sleeve up and scanned her arm, "Oh, Rings, vows, um, makeup, somewhere to change and stuff."

Cameron's jaw dropped, "Did you honestly write all that on your arm!"

"Yes," Buffy answered weakly.

"You better pray that washes off quickly," Alison all but growled.

Cuddy shook her head, "Okay, James has the rings, you and House have written your vows, right?"

"Sort of," Buffy answered, "I don't want to be overly sappy, you know he hates that."

Alison nodded, "Yeah, we know, but I think he'll let it go this once."

"Fine, I'll do it later tonight," Buffy conceded.

Lisa grinned, "Wonderful, we can change in my office, and we can do each other's makeup. I'll liaise will James tomorrow and make sure everything on his end is peachy keen. Did I honestly just say 'peachy keen'?"

Buffy shrunk in her chair, knowing she was about to be blamed for that phrase.

* * *

House was fiddling at the piano when Buffy walked into the apartment. He turned and smiled slightly, before patting the space on the bench beside him. Toeing off her shoes, Buffy dropped down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Long evening," he asked fully knowing the answer.

Buffy pouted, "I hate you!"

The comment was entirely lacking venom, so Greg just chuckled and wrapped an arm around his girl.

"I love you too," he smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"No, seriously, I hate you," Buffy tried again. "I have homework and things to plan. How bad would it be for me to kidnap you and go to Vegas?"

House sighed dramatically, "Well if I had known that was okay from the start, we both could have avoided this whole dramatic event."

Buffy whimpered, "We have to write vows. You know I hate writing, and work. I'm the muscle not the brain!"

"Well, we could trash the place and pretend we were kidnapped until the whole thing blows over," House offered lightly.

"You have met Andrew, the human bloodhound," Buffy asked pointedly. "If we cheat him out of a wedding, neither of us may survive."

"Damn that Spock-Wannabe," House thumped his fist down on the keyboard, inducing giggles from Buffy.

House frowned, "Did those two She-Devils give you wine?"

"Yes, it was that or duck tape my mouth shut to keep me from being unproductative," Buffy stumbled over the last word, the last of the wine kicking in.

House frowned good naturedly, "I suppose I should tuck you into bed, my Dear. On the other hand, I could force you to stay awake."

Buffy stuck her tongue out. House took it as an invitation and captured her lips in a firm kiss.

"Bed, missy, now," he ordered once he'd released her.

"Come with," Buffy begged snuggling closer to Greg.

Together the two of them hobbled to bed, neither all that thrilled with their pending dooms at Andrew's hand.

Tucked in bed, the lights off, House smirked, "We're getting old. It's before midnight and we're going to bed."

"Well I'm a little tipsy and you have work in the morning," Buffy offered her explanation. "Thursday night we'll prove we're not getting old."

House snickered, "I'll take you up on that, so Parcheesi?"

"Parcheesi," Buffy confirmed. "So, what did you do for dinner?"

"Emmy and Melody ordered a pizza and we ate together because Andrew was 'tweaking out'. Melody begged me to go to Parent's Night next week with you instead of Andrew," House slid his hand through his fiancé's silky hair.

"Mm, what night is it again," Buffy scooted closer to House.

"Monday night."

Buffy rolled over, and slung her leg over Greg's, "Well, aren't we just lucky, hey at least we'll have practice for when we have our own little spawn."

The blonde smiled at that thought, "Oh so that was the evil plot you've been plotting with the fertility statue. Knocking me up?"

"Entirely, it's a long and complicated plan, this whole wedding thing, just a means to a pregnant Buffy," House admitted with a yawn.

"Despicable," Buffy returned, though she was smiling. "Though one or two wouldn't be horribly traumatizing."

"One or two it is," House agreed happily.

"Love you."

"Mm, love you too."

_

* * *

Tuesday, October 29__th_

The headache lasted all of ten minutes before Greg placed a steaming mug of coffee in her hands. Buffy moaned in delight, once again cursing the thing called alcohol. On the upside, Buffy could barely string together two words regarding the wedding plans.

"Babe, Mel and Em need a ride to school, do you want me to take them," House asked as he tugged his favorite suit jacket on.

"I got it, you need to stay on Cuddy's good side, at least until Monday," Buffy grinned and rolled out of bed. "Oh coffee, how I love thee."

"Would you like me to leave you with the coffee," House asked.

"Yes please," Buffy chirped happily.

He rolled his eyes and planted a kiss on Buffy's cheek, "The girls are in the living room, I have to go so the she-witch doesn't have a meltdown. I'll call you later?"

"Yes please, love you," Buffy called as she ducked into the bathroom, mug still in hand.

* * *

House tapped the whiteboard with his cane, he was puzzled, bamboozled, okay, mostly just stumped. Vows, that was what Wilson had told him to do today, God forbid he actually try and cure someone. The potentials were doing clinic work, and trying to figure out what was up with House. They weren't getting very far on the second point.

Back to the whiteboard, all that was written in red marker was two words. 'Love' and 'Lucky'. That was it, and Wilson refused to help him. A smirk slowly curved his lips upward, and his hand snapped up the phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Chase, my office, now," House ordered before hanging up before any argument could be made.

Ten minutes later Chase was standing in the doorway looking more than a little irritated, "Is there something you need?"

"Yeah. You're good with the women, you know, touchy feely," House dug himself into a hole.

"Exactly why did you call me," Chase asked tightly.

Suppressing a growl, House tossed his whiteboard marker at the man, "Vows, I can't think of anything besides that."

He gestured to the board, and Chase deflated slightly. He couldn't be entirely pissed off about this situation.

"Fine, I'll help, but I get one favor in exchange," Robert bartered, knowing he'd get what he wanted.

"Deal," House agreed. "So, besides me being a lucky bastard, what do I say?"

"Well, I wouldn't say bastard, to start with," Chase sat down with a slight groan. "And maybe you should say something about the future—and not being such a prick anymore."

House shrugged before nodding, "Hey, remember the first day we met?"

Chase shuddered minutely, "I still don't know what Buffy did to deserve you. She must have shot a man in Vegas just to watch him die."

"That actually explains a lot," House muttered.

* * *

"Here," House tossed a few note cards at his best man. "Tell me what you think."

Wilson glanced at the cards before continuing down the hall, "Vows?"

"Yep, just finished them," House crowed.

"Chase?"

"Yep."

Wilson shrugged, "I guess I should be grateful you even did it."

Greg shrugged and tapped his cane against the wall, "You wouldn't be wrong."

* * *

Andrew dialed frantically. He was having a miniature crisis. It was wedding week, and there were still a million things to do most importantly, making sure House was doing what he needed to do.

The phone rang and rang and rang. And when it finally stopped, Andrew wasn't pleased.

"House," he half screeched.

"No, this is Dr. Volakis, one of Dr. House's fellows, can I help you," Amber smiled into the phone.

"I need to talk to House, now!"

"Do you have a medical emergency," Amber smirked again, too easy to have control.

Andrew nearly growled at the less than helpful person, "Yes I have a medical emergency, if I don't speak to House in the next five seconds I may have a conniption fit!"

"Dr. House isn't in, I'll be sure to let him know you called though," Amber snickered in her head as she hung up. "Well, if that doesn't earn me brownie points I don't know what will."

Straightening her lab coat, Amber or rather, Cutthroat Bitch, pranced out of the office she had just been 'waiting' in. The losers, she was 'competing' with for a slot to work with Doctor House, were actually doing work, while she was…investigating her boss.

Stalking down the halls, the tall blonde woman spotted her prey walking with Dr. Wilson. She grinned like the cat that was about to eat the canary but wasn't aware the wolf was waiting to swallow her whole.

"Dr. Wilson, Dr. House," she started faux-breathlessly. "I was just looking for you, um someone annoyingly high pitched, and angry called for you, I took the liberty of telling him you weren't in."

House resisted the urge to smack the smirk off her face, "Great, thanks, do you want me to give you No Bell Peace Prize? How about a bone, hmm, does the begging mutt want a treat?"

The smile on Amber's face slid off, terror filling her from her toes up. This was not how the conversation was meant to go. She was supposed to walk away with a shiny gold star from teacher.

Dr. Wilson coughed, hand smothering the noise as best it could, "I, uh, have to go and check on something. I'll swing by to talk after dinner."

He waved a few note cards in the air before slipping off to laugh hysterically at both the potential and House's misfortune.

* * *

Shoving past the more than annoying and bitchy, petty, woman, House stormed towards his office to do some damage control.

Amber was left to stand dumbly in the corridor, nurses, doctors, and the occasional child giving her a wide berth.

Once in his office, House kicked the door shut and locked it firmly. No sense in having his fun go to waste because of a frantic geek. Slumping down in his chair, Greg mentally psyched himself for the expectant high-pitched reaming he was about to get.

Phone pressed to his ear, it didn't surprise the specialist when the first ring was cut off by a semi-angry fully-annoyed voice.

"House!"

"Before you say anything," Greg said in his 'warning' voice, "I was not dodging your calls. One of my not-so-potential-fellows is just a bitch."

Andrew's back of the throat whining shuttered to a halt, "Fine, but I'm still not appeased!" A giggle fit ensued, "Oh and you better have triple checked the chapel booking and the priest, or else mister!"

House drove a thumbtack into his good leg to cut the smartass comment off and instead produce a strained agreement, "I'll go right now for the third time, see you at home, Andrew."

* * *

Emmy and Melody Summers hadn't been attending the school for long, less than two weeks, and still they were the oddballs, the centers of attention, the 'eyesores'. And it wasn't for anything they could control. They weren't from New Jersey, hell they weren't even from the United States. They looked nothing alike, acted nothing alike, and yet they were sisters.

More than sisters, they were comrades. Nothing could pull them apart or induce them to fight. They stood up for each other, Melody easily, and Emmy more reservedly, but they did. Emmy was a shoo-in for the popular crowd, Mel with her outlandish and loud behavior was not. Neither ended up being popular, and that was okay.

Sitting at the lunch table, Melody was resisting the urge to shove Andrew's chocolate cheese cake into her ears so she wouldn't have to hear the Team Edward or Team Jacob argument going on across from her. Emmy wasn't fairing much better, she was tensing her muscles systematically to give her something other than the argument to focus on.

Finally Melody broke and let out a strangled yelp, "That's it! First off, what self respecting vampire let alone human, would want to sparkle! Secondly, that book makes no sense! Just because he's as hard as marble does not mean that he wouldn't or couldn't be knocked over when he's just standing still, it's illogical, it defies the nature of the universe! Oh god, I'm starting to sound like Andrew."

Emmy giggled, "Thirdly, Mel would say, that the book is racist, or species-ist. Honestly, it's really sort of sexist too. I mean I don't care how strong an opponent is, that doesn't mean they have the upper hand!"

Melody nodded in agreement, "Damn straight!"

The two girls who well knew the pairs opinion on _Twilight_ giggle before speaking in unison, "So what team are you on?"

With just as much coordination, Mel and Em exchanged a glance before responding, "Team Oz!"

The rest of the lunch table looked at them dumbly, the girls just snickered. Oz, in their eyes, was almost as awesome as Buffy.

* * *

It was the end of school, and Emmy and Melody were almost dreading going home and dealing with a wedding panicked Andrew, Buffy, and House.

Most of the teens were milling about outside the school, waiting for rides or friends. It was loud, and crowded. The loud part stopped when a van screeched to a stop and three men tumbled out of the back, one with a megaphone.

"Emmy! Melody," Devon cried like it was his last chance to be an actor.

Both girls nearly choked on their tongues when they saw their friends/brothers/parental figures frantically looking for them. Oz, they both noted, was sitting in the driver's seat of the van, head hung low.

It didn't take long for Rowley to find Emmy and sling her mostly unresisting over his shoulder. Jackson smirked, pounded on his chest in an imitation of Tarzan before grunting Melody's name and tossing her onto his back.

Devon cackled maniacally before herding his band-mates and their victims into the van.

Once in inside, Devon grinned, "Go, go!"

Oz took off like a shot, it wasn't that he was involved in this, he just figured if the other three were arrested for kidnapping, he would be more likely to be able to talk them out of it than the other three.

Melody was now laughing hysterically, "So Tarzan, where are we going?"

Jackson grinned broadly, eyes bugging out slightly, "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

"Way to be a creep," Rowley snickered. "We asked Buffy if we could take you guys for ice-cream. You know, since you two haven't destroyed the school yet."

Emmy licked her lips, "Ice-cream? And no Andrew?"

Oz planted his face in the palm of his hand, one eye still on the road, "No, Andrew has gone slightly mad, er, madder than before. Buffy is trying to do damage control—which means a lot of bargaining and bribing, and she doesn't really want you two in the crossfire."

"Ah," two voices responded while three others were hooting wildly.

* * *

Buffy dodged the soaked sponge, "Andrew!"

The man wilted slightly at Buffy's raised voice, "Sorry."

"It's okay, just take a deep breath, and calm down," Buffy tried. "Now, you and I are going to get through this. There's really nothing left to do, I promise."

Buffy edged over to the kitchen and got busy making a hot-pocket for the crazed man. It was one of his comfort foods.

Two minutes later, Andrew was nibbling on the edge of a cheese pizza hot-pocket and taking extra deep breaths.

"Okay," Buffy nodded encouragingly. "House has done everything he needs too, right?"

Andrew nodded, "Yeah, and so have Lisa, Alison, and Wilson."

"Alright, good," Buffy smiled softly. "Now, what still needs to be done?"

Andrew frowned and started thinking, "Um, uh, oh…well, we still need to do the final fittings for the dresses, and I need to make a master list for the day of."

Buffy hid her smirk. Andrew was a great friend, except when he got panicky and nervous. Then he got irate really easily. After getting a semi-worried call from Greg, Buffy had checked on Andrew and found her former apartment in a state of chaos. She'd spent the last hour and a quarter calming the man down and trying to make some sort of sense of his ramblings.

"Better now," Andrew smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry for freaking out."

Buffy dragged the nerd into a tight hug, "It's all of the good. A few more days, and we can retire to a beach in Tahiti and pretend this whole thing never happened, deal?"

Andrew's eyes lit up, "You are so right, Buffy! We only have a handful of months before summer, and I have to plan the vacation! I'll set up a suggestion box, I can't wait!"

Buffy internally winced, wrong words, now he was going to be on another crazed kick. The slayer just prayed that her deserts wouldn't suffer as a consequence.

* * *

Well, I'm done with school for the summer, that's the good news. The bad news is my love life is in chaos, and its hot as hell, my sister is married….and pregnant again. I'm betting on it being a boy, I already have a niece, and I don't want another. If it isn't a boy, well then I don't have a second niece. _He's_ due Nov. 1st so I'm hoping for a Halloween baby or a Nov. 5th baby. Yeah I know, I don't get to choose. But I'll tell you what I told my sister, we're women, we can do anything. I'm starting to get over my writers block, and the next chapter shouldn't take so long to get out. Please review, it took me a lot of sugar and psyching to get this done.


	19. Wedding & A Wake

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.  
A/N: Ugh, I hate the heat, but I've been holing up in my room. This was the product of a little too much sugar, and wanting to get my faithful reviewers something. Originally this was only meant to be 2500 words, of course my muse got away from me. I ended up considering splitting it into two chapters, but I think you guys deserve this.

_

* * *

Wednesday, October 30__th_

It was strange to be in a hospital when it wasn't House's second home. This hospital had no happy memories, it was sorrow personified. Buffy's sister in arms, sister of her heart, lay unconscious, unresponsive, unFaith-like. Well, maybe it was a bit Faith-like. This was, after all, the second time Faith had been this way.

Leaning on the doorjamb, Buffy Summers smiled through her impending tears. Taking a deep breath, she pushed away from the doorframe and walked into the room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Buffy stroked the younger girl's cheek.

"Hey, it's been a while since I've seen you. A lot has happened since I spent the night last," Buffy chuckled dryly. "I was running away then, I came back, and let's just say it wasn't pretty. Looked like Giles after a weeklong bender."

Faith was pale as ever, Buffy frowned, "As soon as you're better, we're going to the beach, I think Andrew's planning for Tahiti this summer. You remember our last vacation? In Wales? God, I never thought you'd manage to get arrested for indecent exposure while it was raining cats and dogs in the middle of the cold season. You're something else. The wedding is tomorrow, there's still a shot if you wake up, I want you there. You stuck by me, I know we had our fights and hissy fits, but I need you Faith. After Sunnydale, I always thought that if I got hitched, you'd be right there, keys in hand in case I needed to escape, my bachelorette party would be filled with male strippers, and I would probably be late to the big show."

Buffy kicked off her shoes and slid onto the bed next to Faith, "Mind if I take a nap, the next few hours are going to be killer."

_

* * *

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the piano, a truly happy smile gracing her face. From across the room, Faith's brightly painted lips returned the grin. Buffy's heart clinched tightly at the sight, though she couldn't figure out why. Next to Faith were Emmy and Melody, all three girls playing with tiny Star Wars action figures. Glancing around her apartment, she finally saw Andrew emerge from the kitchen, one hand held a large wooden spoon, the other held a plate of cookies._

_ The boy, no, man stalked over to Faith and made a few threatening gestures, which she waved off with a wink at Buffy._

_ "Yo, B," Faith called. "H said he'd be home late, apparently some nurse tried to pull a Mary Poppins off the roof. Little Sister wants to spend some time with you and the boys anyhow."_

_ Buffy nodded, though the words didn't mean anything to her, and she didn't really care. Shaking her head slightly, Buffy's gaze focused on a figure behind Faith._

_ "Run and catch," the husky male voice crooned as he swayed gently, holding the bundle in his arms carefully. He looked directly at her, everything else spinning out of focus until it was just Caleb and Buffy. "Everything will be alright now. Everything is going to be alright."_

_ An unwarranted warmth flooded Buffy's body, it wasn't unpleasant. No, it was beautiful, euphoric. It was as if she knew everything _would _be alright._

_The room returned and Faith bounced up to her, grinning like a child, "B, B, you in there, you totally just pulled a Space Cadet. Buffy, you okay, Buffy?"_

* * *

"Buffy, you okay, Buffy," Melody asked as she stood just inside the hospital room.

Cameron, Lisa, and Emmy were standing behind her. All four of the ladies knew the hazards of waking sleeping slayer, they were just better let lying.

Emmy finally rolled her eyes and pulled her sweatshirt off. Balling it up she took aim and chucked it at her guardian, it landed with a plop on Buffy's face. The woman shot up and nearly fell of the bed, she caught herself on the bedside table.

"I'm good," Buffy grinned, raising her arms like a gymnast. "Landing?"

Melody smirked, "6.5, but I'll give you a 9 for originality."

The oldest slayer was still filled to the brim with the warmth of the dream, "Oh shut up, that was so a 10!"

Lisa and Alison watched as the woman they had known for months changed before their eyes, she was freer than she had been since before she left.

"You feeling okay," Alison ventured, her voice as non-threatening as she could make it.

Buffy nodded and gave Faith's hand a squeeze, "Yeah, everything is alright, more than alright. Downright peachy with an extra helping of keen."

Melody approached slowly, "Is that her, Faith?"

Buffy nodded, "Yep, this is F, Faith, Slayer Extraordinaire, Second in Command, My Sister."

Emmy and Melody both looked at the pale slip of a woman on the bed. It didn't take them long to find the thread that connected them together, the thread of being a slayer. Both young women smiled as though they'd found a hundred bucks. Buffy bit her lip to keep from laughing.

The carrot top girl broke the silence first, "Well, we can't stay any longer, we have things to do and men to see."

"Melody," Buffy attempted to scold the girl. "There will be no men, you're underage and I'm engaged. Ha, I made a rhyme."

Lisa rolled her eyes at them, "Mel is right, we have an appointment, it's called a spa, and I intend to be pampered!"

Buffy giggled, turned and kissed Faith's cheek haphazardly, "I'll see you soon, Faith, love you."

* * *

Wilson opened yet another window, "Jeeze, if I had known we'd be producing more smoke than a four alarm fire, I would have set up the patio."

House rolled his eyes and started miming a blabbermouth with his hand, Devon snickered and took a swig of his beer.

"Here we go," Andrew said as he hurried back into the living room. "Buffalo wings with handmade triple alarm sauce."

A round of cheers went through the room. Wilson was reveling in the miracle that was taking place, he was the one throwing the bachelor party for once. You know what they say, always a groom never a best man.

House was having his own little euphoria filled night, hell he didn't even care about beating all of his friends and family at poker. He just wanted to have fun and go to bed alone so he could get up and go to work and then marry the woman that he hadn't even imagined in his wildest dreams.

Andrew was more than a little tipsy from the two beers he'd been allowed to have, and was just thankful the wedding crunch time was over—mostly.

Oz, Devon, Rowley, and Jackson were caught up in the good mood, good food, and good booze. They'd known Buffy for a long time, and it was about time she found some happiness, even if it wasn't in Devon's arms—as Devon often mourned.

Chase and Foreman were still attempting to reconcile the angry, narcissistic man they had met years ago with the cheerful, slightly less self-absorbed man they now saw.

House shuffled the cards and chewed on the end of his cigar, mentally making a note to brush his teeth a few dozen times before the wedding.

"Alright, are we going to play, or are we going to sit here and gossip and trade recipes," he half snarled.

They sat down and Andrew started fidgeting, "So, we're not playing strip poker, are we…because last time I played poker with Faith and Buffy I had to get a whole new wardrobe."

Mouths went slack and House rolled his cigar between his fingers, "That is something I never wanted to know, or needed to know."

* * *

Spike staggered across the room, stumbling and falling onto his face when his ankles gave out.

"Can you believe this," he growled into the carpet. "She's bloody getting married to the prick of a prick!"

Angel tossed another crystal ball at the wall, it shattered, "You think you're mad, I got dumped twice! Once for you, and then for a human! What the frappuccino does he have that we don't, a pulse?"

"Ezatly," Spike slurred as he struggled to his feet. "A pulse, that just means he breaths and that's no good for ha'ing fun!"

"An' you know whas gonna happen when he fracks up 'gain? She'll be broken," Angel's anger was starting to overcome his own slurring.

Spike slumped against the desk, "Can't you stop being a big poofy cock and just cuss?"

The tall vampire scowled and lifted his leg up onto the desk and jerked his pant leg up, "I canno' one of the little Lass' experiments, a cussing-monitor. Nasty shocks."

"Ha, ha, ha," Spike snickered loudly. "Poofter!"

"I miss Buffy," Angel pouted.

"I miss her more," Spike half yelled.

"Do not," Angel argued.

Spike growled, "I'll prove you how much I love her!"

He picked up the phone and dialed a half remembered number then he put it on speaker phone.

* * *

House fished his heavily vibrating phone out of his pocket, half hoping it was his blushing-bride-to-be calling to save him from drunken bachelors.

"Hello," he answered, flipping the phone to speaker.

The rest of the guys quieted down almost instantly, except for Devon who started howling, well until Oz clapped a hand over his mouth.

"If you hurt her—" Spike started, hiccupping slightly.

"—even look at her wrong," Angel interjected.

"Yeah, look at her wrong—"

"Or even look at her," Angel snarled.

A grunt was heard over the line, "Shut your cakehole you big fat forehead sucker! What was I—oh, right. They won't find enough of you to declare you dead!"

"Yeah, that's right," Angel cheered.

House cocked his head to the side and stared at his phone incredulously, "Somehow I have a feeling that this is going to be drunken vampire blackmail for years to come."

There was some scrambling on the other end of the line as the two inebriated vampires attempted to destroy the phone, as if that would destroy any record of the threatening call.

House could only grin to himself as he hung up, at least his girl had friends who would do anything for her.

"That was….odd," Wilson frowned as he picked up his cards again and relit his cigar.

Oz shrugged, "Not odd, just strange that they were getting along that well."

The table erupted in laughter again.

House sighed and got up, he belched before smirking, "Well, I've got to go…"

"Drain the lizard," Devon suggested helpfully.

Foreman kept a straight face, "Water the trees?"

"Pain the walls," Oz chipped in.

"Return the beer you rented," Rowley asked.

"Free Willy," Wilson asked sweetly.

House was glaring when Jackson snickered, "Shake the snake?"

Chase sniffed, "Pregnancy testing, just in case."

They all looked to Andrew to finish off the teasing, he sat there with his face screwed up before he grinned maddeningly, "Shake the dew off the lily!"

They kept looking at Andrew.

"What the hell, where did you learn that one," Devon asked.

Andrew's eyes shifted sporadically, "…it was…okay, fine! It was from an old comic book that was never released that I hacked into it!"

"Of course," House muttered as he slipped away.

* * *

Leaning against the locked bathroom door, House his speed dial number one.

It rang, and rang, and finally went to voicemail, "Hey, babe, it's me. I just wanted to say goodnight, and that I love you, oh, and Spike and Angel decided to drunk dial me and threaten me bodily harm if I so much as looked at you. I think I'll have to risk it. Night, and don't let the She-Males convince you to run away with some studly stripper."

Okay, so he was a little disappointed that her voicemail was all he got, it wasn't exactly the fortifying conversation he needed to make it through the next 20 or so hours.

* * *

"No," Lisa yelled and lunged across the couch and snatched the cell phone away from Buffy. "This is your bachelorette party before you marry that disgusting cretin I hired. No phones, no talking to him, this is your last chance to escape."

Alison covered her mouth with one hand, it wasn't exactly every day that she saw her boss drunk and speaking freely.

"Lisa is right," Cameron nodded, "No men, except for strippers, and no phones!"

Buffy pouted prettily, "But, what if they're all in the emergency room, what if they killed Andrew?"

She was grasping at straws, but the champagne was letting her mind wander and it kept wandering to Greg.

Emmy giggled and shook her head, hair bouncing everywhere, "I think I'm drunk."

Buffy rolled her eyes at the girl, "You're not drunk, you're just feeling good. Which means, you've had enough champagne for awhile, kiddo."

Melody pouted and clutched her champagne flute to her chest, "But I like it, its bubbly!"

Lisa shook her head, "Remind me why we let them have alcohol?"

"Because it's better that they experiment under a watchful eye, and have a killer hangover now, so that I know they won't be getting drunk behind my back," Buffy grinned maniacally.

Emmy groaned, "I hate you!"

"You'll thank me in a day or two," Buffy returned sweetly.

After the fivesome had spent the day at the spa, fully pampered they had gone to a five star New York City restaurant and gorged themselves on delish food, and gotten extra dessert to go, they'd ended up at a classy hotel that was more than willing to supply alcohol and sugar until the morning after.

Alison licked her lips and glanced at Lisa, "I think it's time."

"Time, oh yeah, time," the other woman smirked. "The four of us went shopping the other day, and got you a few necessities."

The salacious look on the woman's face was almost frightening, although there wasn't much time to be frightened as bags and boxes were shoved into Buffy's arms.

_

* * *

Thursday, October 31__st_

House slept in until ten before even thinking about going to work. He was what people might call impatient. In truth he didn't even know the meaning of the word patience at times. The day of his wedding would be one of them.

The day was like any other, patients were idiots, doctors were incompetent idiots, and Cuddy was glaring at him. But he Greg was whistling. Nurses were smiling brightly and giggling as he passed them by. Chase, Foreman, and Cameron were talking eagerly to each other, Chase and Foreman asking after Buffy, who was dealing with last minute details along with Andrew.

James was still in shock a bit, it hadn't been all that long ago that he had convinced the pretty woman who lived across from the Ass to break into his apartment. The rest, as they say, was history.

* * *

Buffy was effectively locked up. Laying back on the Star Wars sheets, the slayer sighed. Andrew had 'grounded' her. She wasn't allowed to leave the apartment until he okayed it, and James had a firm grip on Greg. House and Buffy weren't all that much for tradition, but god-forbid Andrew heard them say it.

Melody and Emmy had woken up with tiny hangovers thanks to their slayer healing, but it had taught them a valuable lesson. Champagne, midnight Scooby-Doo marathons, and school the next day were non-mixy things.

Currently the pair were getting their final fittings for their dresses. They were ebony cocktail dresses, sleeveless with square necklines. Andrew had nearly squealed when he saw them.

Of course Buffy's dress was hanging, rather ironically, in the one place she'd always figured was the farthest part of her life from a picket fence: The Vamp Room. The place she'd hosted vampires, voluntarily, and involuntarily.

When it was nearly noon, Buffy pushed herself off the bed, "Andrew, it's time for me to take the girls to school!"

After a few minutes, Oz unlocked the door, "I have to go with, as your chaperone."

"You've got to be kidding me," Buffy muttered. "Alright, but we have to pick Blythe up on the way, because she's going to help us out."

"Cool," he shrugged.

* * *

Amber leaned across the table towards her competition, "What the hell do you think is wrong with him?"

"Drugs," Kutner asked.

"No," Taub shot down the idea. "Hooker?"

Remy, or Thirteen, rolled her eyes, "Maybe he got a raise."

Cole snickered, "Maybe someone gave him a puzzle cube."

Dobson, the man who was not a doctor, sighed. He too was puzzled, he'd been in House's pocket for long enough, usually he was in the 'know'. He was just as lost as the other fellows.

"Maybe he discovered the cure to cancer," Brennan said sarcastically.

"But it is weird, right," Amber asked again.

Thirteen rolled her big eyes, "Yes, it's weird, do we really care, no."

"You're lying," Kutner told her. "You want to know just as badly as the rest of us."

"No I don't," she denied it.

Actually she'd asked a nurse, Doctor Wilson, and Doctor Cuddy. None of them had answered her.

"I say we get his blood and run a tox-screen," Amber declared.

Taub huffed, "And how exactly do you intend to get his blood. Ask for it, or better yet, tell him it's for needy orphans."

"Okay, so I hadn't thought that far," Amber admitted sheepishly. "But we have to figure out what's going on. He was whistling earlier, and not once has he yelled at someone!"

Remy ran a hand through her hair, "True, he hasn't been a complete bastard today, or since he came back from his 'vacation'."

She air quoted the word 'vacation' like it was just a binge drinking binge. Or sex with a stripper in Vegas. It wasn't a real vacation.

_B-ang!_

All seven potentials jumped out of their seats. They turned to look at the glass that separated them from House. He was staring at them, it wasn't quite a glare, more an incredulous scoff rolled into a single stare.

They all swallowed like they'd been caught by Cuddy drugging her on House's orders.

* * *

"Bye, Dears," Blythe called cheerfully as Buffy walked Melody and Emmy inside the school to sign in.

Melody waved and Emmy smiled brightly before yanking Buffy towards the building.

In the office, Buffy smiled politely at the secretary, "Hi. Um, I'm dropping my daughter's off."

She didn't notice the twin grins on the younger girl's faces. Buffy did note the quirked brow from the older woman behind the desk.

"They're adopted. So, do I need to sign anything, or what?"

The woman smiled, "Oh, you must be Ms. Summers, Principal Machs told me about you. You just need to sign the sheet, and then I'll write them passes to their classes."

Buffy gave each girl a hug before pushing them away, "Devon will pick you up, don't get into any fights, don't do anything that Andrew will yell at you for, and, oh, listen to your teachers."

Emmy and Melody traded a look.

"You act like we're the ones getting married," Melody scoffed.

Emmy nodded, "Don't be nervous, everything will be alright, Mom."

The last word was said with a little smirk that Melody echoed. Buffy's jaw dropped.

"Do I have mom hair," she asked desperately. "I'm only 20-something. I'm too young to have mom hair."

"Go! Mom," Melody ordered, enjoying the teasing.

* * *

Most of the day-staff had headed home, either to take their kids out to trick-or-treat, or to get dressed up for the in-hospital trick-or-treating that the Children's Ward did.

The sun was already setting though it was only half past six. House was sequestered up in James' office, while Buffy and the girls, plus Andrew and Oz, where locked down in Lisa's office.

Guests had filtered in for the past thirty minutes, and everything was scheduled to start in a few moments. Andrew and Wilson were playing interference between the bride and groom. They'd even gone so far as to strip the pair of their phones. Buffy, being Buffy, had slipped her pager down her dress and hooked it to her bra, not taking a chance when it came to certain things, or people.

* * *

House fidgeted nervously, even though he was smiling broadly. He was standing at the front of the little chapel, people he knew and didn't know filling the pews. He could pick out Buffy's friends from L.A. by the photos he had seen, but there were others he could vaguely recognize as hospital staff, but had never actually talked to them. That was the miracle of Buffy. She could make friends with anyone.

In the front row, Devon and the boys, sans Oz, gave him thumbs up signs, while his father was actually smiling, and House almost sensed the pride in the man he'd never really liked.

It didn't take long for the ceremony to start, cued by the music, which started with Andrew and Melody walking down the aisle. Greg couldn't help but snicker a little, it looked like they'd been at each other's throats seconds beforehand. Next came Chase and Emmy both smiling sweetly, they were quite alike, soft, pretty, and strangely accented. Foreman escorted Lisa down the aisle, the former not quite scowling, but not smiling either, while the latter grinned toothily. Lastly, James walked Cameron towards the front, and when they got there, James grabbed House in a big bear hug. Neither really sure where it came from.

At last, the music started for Buffy's entrance, and when she did walk through the doors, on Oz's arm, Greg's smile pulled into a face numbingly happy grin.

She looked beautiful. Buffy wore a v-neck, empire waist floor length gown. It had a small round train and fluttery short sleeves. It floated around her, made of silk and chiffon, it barely touched the ground, showing just a hint of silvery strappy shoes. Her hair was swept up in tiny little loopy buns and held back with a ribbon headband. The cross necklace draped around her neck and tucked into her dress, was a gift from Blythe, a tradition given from mother to daughter. And though no one could see it, Oz's favorite guitar pick was tucked into her dress for luck, and it was blue.

Oz keeping her steady, Buffy walked down the aisle, resisting the urge to ask her old friend to pinch her just in case it was a dream. It didn't take long before Buffy was standing in front of House, and Oz was handing her off. Her heart was thundering and her toes were attempting to curl in anticipation.

Buffy was more than a little out of it until she heard the priest's voice, her smile never faltered, but she blinked, and the priest came into view. She tightened her grip on House's hands, before her stood Caleb, a man she'd killed, a man that had continued to haunt her, The First.

He threw her a little wink and continued to talk in that southern accent, chuckling every once in a while. After a few moments, he motioned to Greg.

"Okay, well, for a long time, longer than I can remember, I've been a Bastard, an Ass," the preacher threw him a dirty look. "Okay, no more swearing, got it. The point is, I was miserable before you broke into my life, quite literally. James always asks why you fell for me, when you met him first, sometimes I wonder the same thing. I don't know why you love me, I just thank the Powers That Be that you do, and I know I'm one hell of a lucky man to have you, Babe."

Buffy sniffed, pouted prettily, "My turn? Okay, you take me and everything I am without batting an eyelash. You deal with jealous, insane ex-boyfriends, you didn't argue when I came home with two teenage girls, hell, you stole candy from the clinic for them. You don't try to keep things from me, you don't kill Andrew, and that's what makes you one of the best men I know. Because that man could tempt god himself to kill him. But I'm not looking for God, as much as you would enjoy me calling you that, I just want someone to hug me when I lose it, and take naps with in the middle of the day."

There was more awing and cooing from the crowd, even a few snickers from those who had inside knowledge.

The priest spoke for a few more minutes, but all Buffy could hear was Caleb's southern accent.

"I promised you everything would be alright, and it will be, for now, just enjoy," he smiled, and Buffy could almost feel his hand ghosting along her shoulder.

"You may now kiss the bride," the rest of the world came into focus at the words and House's tug on her hand.

The moment her eyes refocused on Greg's face, her smile intensified and she couldn't breathe. In a split second, Greg's hand was behind her neck, and his lips were on hers. Caressing, possessing, and smiling against hers.

Then his arms were around her, his mouth at her ear, "I love you, Baby. I don't know how they hell I would have gotten _here_ otherwise."

Buffy laughed, and snuggled up against him as the clapping and cheering around them increased.

* * *

The faint buzzing on the way to the restaurant for the reception was nearly unbearable, but there was no way she could just reach down her dress and grab the pager. She was in a veritable wolf-pack. Fred, Wes, and Gunn were chatting with Oz, Andrew, Emmy, and Melody. Leaving Buffy, House, Blythe, and John to make their own way to the restaurant. The others were already well on their way, and Andrew had insisted he double check his list before heading out.

That returned Buffy to the problem of the pager that had started going off not long after she'd officially been married. Smiling, she slid into the SUV's passenger seat, while her in-laws slid in back. Doing a little maneuvering, with the umbrella, Buffy slid her hand down her dress and undid the pager from her bra.

Smiling again at Greg, she reached over hand grabbed his hand, "It's raining."

He smirked, "Isn't that good luck, like the gods themselves are crying in joy."

"You're ridiculous," Buffy told him, gently smacking him in the chest.

Finally she looked at the pager, House of course noticed.

"Something wrong," he asked softly.

Buffy shook her head, not only had she had a relatively hitch free wedding, she'd gotten rain on her Halloween wedding.

"It was the hospital, she's, um, showing signs of waking up," the smile curved her lips in the dark. "Everything is really going to be alright."

House returned the smile, "No, it is better than alright, it's going to be wonderful, possible with some keen and peach on it."

* * *

Buffy was more relaxed at the reception than she had been in quite some time. She laughed and ate, and drank a little wine. Then came the dancing, which was always fun. Their first dance was to The Beatles _I'm Happy Just To Dance With You_. There were copious amounts of laughter and talk.

"Do you want to go," House asked as they danced with a throng of people they cared for.

"No, no! This is our day," Buffy insisted as she swayed.

Greg nodded down at his petite wife, "Exactly, so if you if you want to, we can go."

Buffy wasn't onboard though House could tell she wanted to jump ship and head for the hospital.

"Hey," he nudged her, "I'll even take the blame."

That got a chuckled and a frantic nod of agreement.

House cleared his throat and pushed towards the exit, "Cheers, I'm going to go ravage my wife. Oh, and I won't be in for work tomorrow!"

They were out the door with only laughter and slight cheers to follow them.

* * *

House drove the whole way to New York City, Buffy leaning against him napping lightly. He didn't mind. They'd only stopped at a drive-through to get a big mug of coffee, there was no quick stop at home to change clothes, or rest. It was a furious drive to New York to make Buffy feel better.

House smiled slightly and placed a soft kiss to the top of her head. Thinking about it, there wasn't much he wouldn't do for her, in fact he couldn't think of anything. Hell, if it made her happier to be with the dork-vampires on the west-coast, he'd let her. Maybe not without a slight fight, or trying to stake the pair of them, but Greg wasn't willing to hurt her. So he'd just have to make her happy every single day for the rest of their lives.

Pulling into the hospital parking lot, he gently shook the tiny blonde, "Babe, we're here."

She moaned and leaned closer to him, of course at that moment her phone began to ring. He picked it up and put it to his ear.

"Okay, we're right outside, I just have to wake Buffy up," he muttered, one hand stroking Buffy's bare arm. "C'mon, Babe, time to get up and see Faith. She's almost awake."

Buffy yawned, "Hi, we here?"

"Yeah," he smiled, and kissed her lips gently, just a peck.

* * *

Faith dragged her eyes open, she felt like a semi had barreled into her. A warm sensation on her hand made her breath deeply, and her eyes slid open at last. Her eyes were blurry, but as they focused she saw someone dressed in white, smiling brightly.

"Hey," her voice was husky and soft and an almost moan. "No, I didn't interrupt your wedding, did I?"

House squeezed Buffy's hand and grinned, "Nah, but you did get us out of the party, thanks for that by the way."

"So you must be him," Faith shifted a little under the covers, trying to sit up, Buffy put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, "this is him, Faith, I want you to meet my husband, Gregory House. Mostly people just call him 'Ass' or 'Bastard' so whichever works for you."

"No Ass-Hat," Faith asked, blinking to try and clear her eyes a little more.

Buffy shrugged, "You can put to a vote when we get you home, kay?"

Faith smiled, "Home, so where am I? Not England."

"New York City," Buffy answered. "Home is New Jersey, and God I never thought I'd say that. We have a lot to catch up on, and you weren't even in a coma that long this time. Bit more than a month."

"New Jersey," Faith croaked. "And I thought my home town was bad, Boston is looking good right now."

"I know," Buffy snickered. "But it is home, I've gathered the misfits and the tin-men, a few lions, and a scarecrow, so, want to go home?"

Faith licked her lips, "Andrew there?"

Buffy nodded, "And living across the hall from me, along with our mini-me's, all two of them."

"Is he baking," Faith sighed. "And still eating hot pockets like they're going out of style?"

"Yes and yes," Buffy chuckled, sitting down on the edge of the bed and moving her hand to stroke Faith's cheek.

"Then I'm five by five, B," the younger woman grinned brightly. "Beam me up Scottie and all that."

House shuddered loudly, "Great, another geek."

Faith glared at him, "B, 'til I'm better, would you smack him for me?"

A soft smack upside the head was Faith's answer, and House's cue to start pouting.

Looking out the window, Faith frowned, "It's late. You should go, check into a hotel, have sex, then come back in the morning and spring me."

"Not a bad idea," House agreed.

Buffy frowned at the both of them before wrapping Faith in a warm hug and whispering her relief in her ear. Sitting up, Buffy sighed heavily, everything was lining up.

"See you in the morning, B," Faith called as she yawned. "I missed you."

Buffy grinned, "Missed you too, F."

"Okay, enough with the mushy crap, go get you some," Faith smirked.

House grinned and started pulling at his wife's hand, "I like that advice, come along dear, time for bed."

Buffy's eyes narrowed at the sexy little smirk, "You horny bastard!"

"Yes," he answered completely straight-faced.

That said, he began to pull her along, though truthfully, if she didn't want to go, he wouldn't have been able to drag her. In fact, if he'd turned around, he would have seen the highly mischievous smile on her face.

_Yes, everything would be alright, now._

* * *

Reviews please?

I got some highly depressing news this past week, and it hit me hard. I'm not a girl who cries much, but this got me leaking all over the place. It really is a sucker punch to the face when someone you love decides to let nature run its course instead of have surgery. 47 and he's given up on life.

On a brighter note, I'm hoping my muse will continue to behave and make me write lots.

I was taking a look at my notes and I realized something. I'm not even close to done with this story. In the beginning it was only going to be 16 chapters, but now it is looking more like 40. Crikey

P.S. did anyone catch the little hint I put in this chapter as to the future events of this story? Love to hear your ideas and thoughts. Tehehe.


	20. Twisted

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.  
A/N: I've been more in the mood to write the past few days. It's a combination of a few things and a heavy dose of relief.

_

* * *

Friday, November 1__st_

Buffy being the slayer had learned the importance of being prepared. So the morning after Buffy and House's wedding they were granted a small reprieve in not having to wear a tux or a wedding dress. Buffy was talking quickly on her phone as Greg grabbed the garment bags the hotel had provided them with, and the suitcase to load into the car. Grinning he dropped a light kiss on Buffy's cheek before he went to get the car.

Buffy grinned and motioned that she'd follow in a minute. Ever since she'd woken up she'd been making calls between Cuddy, and Faith's primary doctor, and her Council accountant who Damian had recommended.

She was antsy the entire ride to the hospital, "Uh, I should call Oz and check on Andrew and the girls."  
Greg slid his hand atop hers, "Hey, I have to go and play nice with the doc, so why don't you call home. Meet you at Ground Faith?"

"Deal," Buffy leaned over and kissed his lightly scruffy cheek. "But, if you wanted to trade I wouldn't argue much."

* * *

Oz gazed across the room as Andrew, Melody, and Devon argued over the last waffle. Buffy was on the phone pressed to his ear, though the others in the apartment hadn't realized it yet.

"I think the seven of us could handle that, do you want us to be gone before you get back," the werewolf asked softly.

Buffy paused on the other end, "Yeah, I think that might be better. If you guys head back Sunday morning we should be good."

"Alright," Oz agreed. "I'll have them out of here by noon. Say hi to Faith for me."

"Will do," Buffy grinned.

* * *

"Hey Faith," Buffy smirked as she leaned against the door. "Stop trying to molest the nice male nurse trying to check your stats."

Faith chuckled dryly, "You know me, B. H&H."

The male nurse in question shifted before rushing out of the room chart in hand. Faith grinned broadly a little too proud of embarrassing the kid.

Groaning lightly as she stretched her arms over her head, Faith glanced at Buffy, "I feel better than I did last time. Doc let me walk to the bathroom this morning, didn't stumble more than twice. But he still won't let me alone, not that I'm complaining, you picked a cute one for me Buffy. Anywhatever, I just remember last time it taking a lot more time to walk without falling down, even being what we are."

Buffy smiled and looked down at the floor, "I know."

"Oh," Faith's dark eyes glimmered as the memory triggered, "Yeah."

Buffy frowned when Faith's eyes slipped from her own and stayed glued to the white sheets.

Dropping down onto the bed heavily and a bit overdramatically, Buffy grabbed Faith's chin and pulled her head up so embarrassed gaze met glare, "Hey, you are my sister. I sort of had to take care of you."

"The nurse told me how much you visited," Faith confessed. "Thank you."

"So want to go for a helicopter ride," Buffy asked with a quirk of her brow.

Faith grinned and the girly emotional crap was put back into the vault, "Ooh, I could go for that, and maybe some double fudge ice cream."

"Well then you are in luck, because I have double fudge ice cream in the break room freezer at the hospital, and that is where we are going," Buffy chirped.

With Buffy's help, Faith swung her legs off the bed, "Think I can get one of those wheelchairs? With a hottie to push it?"

Buffy mock gasped hand over heart, "Am I not a hottie?"

"But you are a married hottie, B," Faith smirked falling back into the old banter. "Ooh, no butt baring gown, thanks for that too."

"Trust me when I say I was glad to do that much," Buffy flat-lined.

"Damn," a voice sighed from the door. "And here I was hoping for a sexy pillow fight. Oh how I've been misled."

"I can tell you haven't been beating him enough," Faith scowled. "Now that I'm feeling better I can help with that!"

Buffy shrugged, "Okay, but just remember he's frail."

It only took House's insulted pout and thirty seconds before Buffy and Faith burst out laughing happily. Which only served to increase the pouting coming from the door.

* * *

Oz herded the gang into the van, and within ten minutes of driving five of the members were completely unconscious.

Emmy jiggled her foot as she sat in the passenger seat, "Hey Oz, did you know Buffy when she was my age?"

Oz nodded, "Just about. Why?"

"Just wondering."

They drove in silence, except for a myriad of snores coming from the backseat for a few minutes before Emmy sighed.

"You know Melody told me that Buffy is going to arrange for her to visit her parents, and she is going to talk to them in a few weeks too."

Oz nodded, "I see."

"You do," the girl asked almost desperately.

"Sure," Oz answered. "But hey, Buffy is different. She's got a twisted sense of family, just look at Andrew. Any other mother would have drowned him at birth, or as soon as he started spewing Spock, but Buffy loves him anyway. You're a part of that family, whether you want it or not."

Glancing into the back seat Emmy couldn't help but smile at Andrew who was curled around a Chewbacca plushy.

"Yeah," the curly haired girl smiled. "So besides picking up Buffy's car, what's with the trip?"

Oz tipped his newly blackberry head to the side, "She wants to give Faith a few days to adjust before letting Andrew near her. The last time they were together I heard they got into a hair pulling fight because Faith ate his special cookies."

"Oh," Emmy went wide-eyed.

* * *

House had happily passed out in the helicopter, apparently Buffy had worn him out the night before. Faith had snickered, waggled her eyebrows and commented about horny slayers before the man had collapsed happily.

"All dead," Faith asked softly.

Buffy nodded and rubbed her temple as she remembered the explosion and its aftereffects.

"Yes," she agreed. "You were the only survivor."

Faith frowned as she looked out the window, "Is it bad, that I'm a little glad." The admission was something new, Buffy leaned forward curiously.

"Why?"

Faith turned to face her sister, "Each day that passed made them all closer to the old council than they realized. Giles tried, he tried so hard to keep the lines up, but Willow, Xander, the SITs, even Little D started to let hate and prejudice in. They stopped caring if it was good or bad, it was human or demon."

Buffy had heard a little from Andrew the direction the council had been heading, but this was a whole new blow to her memories of those she once held dear.

"Giles came to me right before," Faith continued. "He wanted me to run, make sure you didn't come back, that I didn't either. He told me Willow was planning to strip you of being the slayer. I think it opened his eyes."

"I know," Buffy whispered, tears prickling behind her eyes. "I heard them talking before I left for my mission. I didn't think Giles would try to protect me after all this time. I didn't think he cared."

Faith's fingers curled around Buffy's, the two girls taking comfort in what they shared.

"So any news on who blew me all to hell," Faith growled, effectively lightening the mood in the chopper.

Buffy shrugged, "Officially it was terrorism against England. Unofficially, I don't know. I saw Caleb…standing amongst the wreckage. Since then, I've been dreaming, and seeing him and he talks."

Tightening her grip comfortingly, Faith looked at her sister-slayer, "What?"

"He says things about balance, and you, and me. And he crashed my wedding," Buffy finally growled unhappily.

"Crashed your wedding," Faith asked skeptically.

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Fine, don't believe me. But I was perfectly happy and then I realize the priest is Caleb! And he keeps promising that everything will be fine and I should just enjoy it."

"What do House and Andrew think," Faith asked immediately, Andrew was her 'watcher' after all.

Buffy's bright eyes dimmed a little, "I didn't tell them."

* * *

Faith was leaning against her, and House was still asleep too, that left Buffy the only one who was awake aside from the pilots.

"I was wondering, when you'd show up again," Buffy muttered as she stroked Faith's dark hair.

"It almost sounds like you didn't miss me," a voice laughed at her.

Buffy looked up and there before her sat Caleb. Or rather the First in a Caleb disguise, "I didn't miss you."

He smiled, "But you missed her," his head tipped towards Faith. "Balance."

"Balance," she echoed his answer.

"Balance," he repeated. "There must be balance, for Faith to be saved, there had to be a balance. I volunteered."

"I'd say thanks, but I think I would end up regretting that," Buffy told the evil in disguise.

Caleb snorted, "I wanted it to be momentous. My return. Now I know what you're thinking: "Ooh, evil! Must slay." But I'm not exactly as gung-ho as before. I figure I'll wait until you did naturally or as naturally as _you_ can, then take over the world. You know, take what they call a siesta. But until you die, I have nothing to do, so I'll be around." He chuckled and crossed his arms across his chest, "Just think of me as your brand new shadow."

Buffy couldn't help the bubble of laughter, "So you got spanked by daddy?"

"Big time" the first deflated a little. "It wasn't until Jr. Slay-Gal went comatose that I got a crack to wedge into. She wakes up, so do I. I can't quite do much, you know, shorter leash and all, but I'm here!"

"And I'm so happy," Buffy said dryly. "So am I the only one who is going to see you, or will you be taunting others during your stay?"

"Conditions," he huffed. "I'm stuck in this identity, and I'm incorporeal for now, but I can let people see me. But what can I say, I really like you a lot."

"Gee, I feel so special," Buffy growled. "And I can't believe I'm having a 'civil' conversation with the First Evil," she finished incredulously.

"Buffy, Buffy, no need to be formal," the enemy grinned widely. "Call me Caleb."

Buffy nodded sharply, "Alright, Caleb. So tell me, did you do it? Did you have them killed?"

Caleb didn't react, "No."

There was no malice, or anger, or even joy in that answer, and before Buffy could respond, he was gone. Blinked out of view like he had never been there, except he had.

"Ma'am," the pilot called back, "We'll be landing at Princeton Plainsboro in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Buffy called back before proceeding to nudge House and then Faith awake.

* * *

There was no need for subterfuge at the hospital because House via Wilson had given the potential fellows the day off. Cuddy and Wilson met them on the roof, the latter wheeling a wheelchair for the newcomer.

House got out first, limping slightly as he leaned lightly on his cane. A dark haired girl in a white shirt and gray sweatpants hopped out next and practically skipped over to the wheelchair and dropped down into it. Buffy exited last, frowning ever so slightly, but with joy clearly written in her eyes.

House wobbled over, "What! That's not fair. I though you couldn't walk!"

Faith snickered, "I can't, I skipped."

"But," House's jaw clenched in irritation. "I'm telling."

Faith's tongue darted out and her eyes lit up in a smile.

Buffy tapped them both on the arm reprovingly, "Stop being children. Ugh, and Faith don't get ahead of your body."

Both "children" pouted and answered in unison, "Fine."

"Good," Buffy smiled. "Now, Faith, this is Lisa Cuddy and James Wilson."

Faith grinned, "The Cuddy and Wilson you told me about?"

"Mhm," Buffy hummed. "Just wait until you meet the others, oh, and Oz and the Dingoes are here too. Well, not here, here, because I sent them to New York to get the car and so that Andrew didn't try to slit your throat while you were 'vulnerable'."

Faith chuckled, "Oh yeah, he's still mad at me for the cookie incident."

* * *

House and Wilson were discussing Faith's 'condition' while nurses hurried in and out of Faith's room to say hello to Buffy and meet Faith.

"Jeeze," Faith groaned. "Did you save all their lives or what?"

Buffy snorted, "Something to that effect. House is sort of an ass, but apparently he's better now that I'm with him."

Rolling her eyes Faith returned the snort, "What are you a twelve-step for jerks, pricks, and murderers?"

Buffy sighed self-sacrificingly, "I do what I can."

"When I was in the coma, I think I dreamed of Caleb too, just once. He was talking to you but I couldn't hear anything," Faith grimaced.

Buffy shrugged, "Don't worry about it. I think a lot of things are going to happen from here on out. You and Caleb waking up are just the surface."

"Caleb," Faith questioned.

"Apparently the First Evil isn't a fan of ceremony, so he's going by Caleb," Buffy answered easily. "Hey, and good news is we get to go home in a few minutes, and I've almost got an apartment for you in our building."

Faith groaned happily, "Oh thank goodness, I want to shower so badly!"

* * *

Buffy helped Faith out of the shower, neither woman minding the lines they were crossing. When one was injured these days, the other helped, and vice versa.

"Okay," Buffy smiled as she helped Faith put on some spare pajamas. "We have double fudge ice cream and crappy TV tonight, and tomorrow we go for our first slay post coma."

House had retreated to the bedroom with a book and a glass of whiskey but not before kissing Buffy goodnight and nodding to Faith.

Buffy rolled her eyes at his stiffness, "He's actually really sweet. But if you tell anyone, they wouldn't find your body. Emmy and Melody, our minis are really attached to him. He even hugs them on occasion."

"No way," Faith scoffed. "I mean he hugs you, but only because he's getting laid."

Buffy glared at her, "No, he loves me."

"Oh I know," Faith agreed. "I just don't know why."

Gasping in playful horror, Buffy narrowed her eyes, "Maybe I should tell Andrew who stole his pie on Pirate Day."

Faith backtracked as fast as she could, "So how are Spike and Angel?"

Buffy grunted at the subject change, "Pissed they couldn't come to the wedding, and a little depressed that I got married. I left House a week or so before the wedding because he screwed up, and I visited them. It was good to see them, so good. I have no doubt that they'll visit as soon as I call and they figure out I still love them."

Faith dug her spoon into the fresh carton of ice cream, "Cool, I kinda miss A."

"Yeah, so how are you," Buffy asked, spooning some ice cream up as well.

"Five by five," Faith grinned, white teeth gleaming predatorily.

Buffy shook her head as she grinned, "Yeah, now I know you're okay."

Swallowing a lump of delicious chocolatey ice cream, Faith licked her lips. "So tell me about James Wilson," it was a purr of a demand.

"Oh my God," Buffy's eyes were round and wide. "I-Oh my God!"

"What, he's pretty cute," Faith smirked which looked more like she wanted to eat James alive—which she probably did.

"Oh my God," Buffy said again, the shock still having her brain on repeat.

She retreated into the bedroom locking the door with a horrified expression stuck on her face.

_

* * *

Saturday, November 2__nd_

It was late past midnight. Buffy rose from bed, slipped out into the living room and smiled at seeing Faith asleep on the couch. Tiptoeing, the older girl covered the younger with a blanket. Pressing a light kiss to Faith's forehead Buffy sat back on the coffee table and watched the other slayer sleep.

"It's worth it, Faith, so worth it to have you home with me," Buffy whispered, hand smoothing the mane of dark hair. "Even if you are aiming to hook James, oh god I can't wait until Greg knows, oh poor Wilson, he's doomed."

* * *

I'd like to thank all of my reviewers, and especially thank those who gave me advice and kept me in their thoughts. It really means a lot.

Faith is back, hehe, I know a lot of you are very happy about that. As for a pairing for Faith, I haven't decided, but I had a horrible though about poor James Wilson being chased by Faith—as you can see I set up a little fluffy bit.

On a sad note, I've been reading more fics recently, and it irritates me when I see details and similar plot lines as my stories. I know it's probably just coincidence (no idea is truly unique and all that jazz), but it frigging annoys me. Especially when there aren't that many stories in that particular category. I thought seriously about just up and quitting writing fanfiction and stick to original stuff—like I should be doing. But I'm weak and I want to write about Buffy and all her many possible fandoms.

Anyhow, please review, and I simply can't wait to see what you all think of this chapter.

Cheers


	21. Games We Play

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.  
A/N: Due to the massive numbers of reviews, especially Clarityfades and Zigpal who always have something to say that makes me grin like an idiot—please don't ever stop being yourselves. So this is dedicated to my reviewers. Hopefully I can continue cranking this story out—hehe.

_

* * *

Friday, November 1__st_

Devon fell out of the back of the van. Fell straight onto the sidewalk, nose to penny.

"Ooh," Devon squealed as the others tumbled out of the van as well. "Heads up too! Lucky."

Dragging the penny across the scarred and dirty pavement Devon rolled over and sat up.

Melody dragged the singer to his feet with no warning so they both ended up stumbling back into the van. Of course Melody being the girl she was, shoved him back out of the van. This time Emmy got the joy of catching Devon, but only barely.

Jackson frowned as he tossed his duffle bag of weapons and mishmash of clothing over his shoulder.

"So why exactly are we in New York," he asked slowly.

Oz took his own bag as the others grabbed theirs, after handing the keys to the valet at the hotel, he turned to the gang.

"Buffy needed us to get her car, and she wanted Faith to not be attacked the minute they got home," Oz explained.

Andrew's scowl grew, "That cookie stealing brat!"

Emmy swallowed her laughter, "Come on, Buffy texted me our reservations."

"I'm not sharing with Devon or Rowley," Melody exclaimed. "Both of them are clingy little girls."

Two squeals of indignation filled the afternoon air as the others headed into the lobby to check in.

* * *

Andrew was shrieking happily as the seven of them stood in line at a theatre.

"I can't believe we're going to see Spamalot," he cheered.

Emmy smiled softly as she looked over the group. Oz, the two girls had learned, was a computer magician in the best way possible: the normal way. He'd managed to get tickets to the show on short notice and rustled up some respectable looking jackets and dresses.

Melody was hanging off of Jackson and Rowley who were happy just to be away from Devon. Devon was being kept in hand by Emmy, who like Buffy had learned that a firm but kind hand was the best when dealing with the overgrown toddler. So instead of bouncing off the walls or flirting with anything in a skirt, Devon was rocking on his heels hands in pockets.

* * *

After a thrilling performance, which had Andrew scribbling ideas for his next 'documentary' on his inner arm, Oz promised to take them out for ice cream. Promised, of course, in the company of five children meant begging and pleading with the two more responsible and quiet members, Oz and Emmy.

Ice cream cones handed 'round, the sevensome walked back to the hotel. Andrew, Jackson, and Rowley trading quotes from Monty Python in obscene accents, Emmy, Melody, and Oz chatting amiably about plans for Saturday, Devon on the other hand was particularly distracted by the stars and the moon.

The distraction of the lead singer ultimately started the first of numerous unfortunate incidents.

The first such incident being Devon tripping on a crack and smooshing his chocolate cone between his face and the pavement.

"No," Devon wailed as he crawled to his feet. "My baby!"

Oz being semi-used to such outbursts and disturbing events gently led Emmy and Melody around the sobbing man, leaving his other band mates to gather their special singer.

* * *

The second incident was contrived by more than fate or luck. It had a slightly tipsy Rowley behind it. Although in his defense Jackson did nothing to stop him. In the dead of night, as Devon slept curled in the fetal position, a permanent marker was applied to his soft, pale, fleshy bits.

All that was heard the next morning was screaming and noiseless sobbing.

_

* * *

Saturday, November 2__nd_

Buffy was the first one up on Saturday, House had kept muttering something about a "Dr. Sexy", and more than once he'd reached out to grab her and giggled in a very Andrew way. Suffice to say Buffy wasn't exactly all that tired.

So with all the grace, and sneakiness that Buffy possessed as both a woman and the slayer, she crept into the kitchen and started to do the only thing she really could do: clean.

With the frenzy that was the wedding, her little mid-relationship crisis, and having friends who acted like three year olds, Buffy's home had been through the wringer in the past few weeks. Cracking her neck determinedly, Buffy started organizing, scrubbing, and trashing.

To her irritation, as she cleaned, she found dishes and cups in the oddest places. Behind furniture, stacked in a corner, and duck taped to the ceiling. Sometimes she wondered how her husband thought of these things. She grinned at the word, husband. Buffy nibbled on her lip happily, and just for the moment, she wanted to go climb back in bed with Greg and cuddle up.

The monstrous stack of crusty dishes that was apparently competing with Galileo's Leaning Tower of Pisa, Buffy started pouring soap into the sink. Glancing over her shoulder, Buffy smirked. Faith was a slayer, and a good one at that. But apparently the girl as always was a late sleeper, not that she or House was much different. They only got up early when they had to.

Scrubbing with all her slayer strength, Buffy didn't even want to venture what had cemented itself onto the red and black plates.

"So this is Saturday's with Buffy," Caleb commented as he shimmered into existence.

Buffy bit her tongue, "Sure, come right on in!"

"Well thank you," Caleb smiled as he settled himself atop the counter beside the sink. "So he's turned you into a little housewife?"

Again the tongue biting was coming into play, "Yep, I'm thinking of doing the whole shtick too! You know, perfectly coiffed hair, pearls, flouncy skirts, dinner on the table by five with a smile."

Caleb smiled broadly, eyes crinkling closed, "Now you're starting to see it my way, Darling."

"Chauvinist," Buffy glowered. "No wonder you had so many women issues the way you act like it is still 1952."

Caleb shrugged, "You missed a spot on that bowl."

In retaliation, Buffy flicked a handful of bubbles and water at the annoying former priest. It only added vodka to her fire that he was incorporeal and completely unaffected by her attack, well except for the triumphant smirk on his smug face.

"You know, it's times like this that I wish you were corporeal, so that I could either punch you or make you help with the dishes instead of you just being annoying," Buffy pursed her lips at the newest and oldest irritation in her life.

Caleb crossed his arms over his chest and stretched lightly, "I think that's my hint to jet. TaTa, Slayer."

* * *

After a day of wandering around New York, and fishing Devon out of the turtle pond in Central Park, there was only one thing left to do before they headed home in the morning: Slay.

Of course it wouldn't be a weekend trip without Andrew suggesting they make the evenings duty more interesting.

That was how, as the sun set, Andrew found himself dressed in a cheap little black dress with his travel apron firmly tied around his waist.

"Welcome to the first, hopefully, annual SlayVenture," the devoted nerd read from his note cards. "Each player has been assigned a character from the board game _Clue_. They must remain in character for the entire SlayVenture. Throughout the thrilling game, players will encounter creatures such as vampires, demons, and the occasional human. The goal is to reach the Nayler Crypt in sector 8. Points will be awarded for order of arrival at the endpoint, and the number of slays you have. And if you lie, may Buffy smite you down in the next training session."

A shudder ran through all seven friends, none of them wanted to be at Buffy's mercy for lying, or if she was bored, or happy, or anything.

The assembled cast traded looks before double checking their weapons and safety whistles. A cheerful Devon as Mr. Boddy in a muscle t-shirt—he'd called the role because he proclaimed he had the hottest bod of the group—held his stake up and howled only to be glared at by Oz for encroaching on the werewolf's territory. Colonel Mustard, played by Rowley who had a near fetish for mustard, was armed to the teeth with bottles of mustard, holy water, and a few stakes. Melody tittered softly already enjoying the game, in her words, "I always wanted to play a crotchety, kick ass, old lady with a feather in her cap," and so she took on the task of Mrs. Peacock, a feather quite literally in her cap. Dressed in a red gown, lips painted a shameful shade of scarlet, Emmy sighed dramatically, holding herself with all the poise that any Miss Scarlett would. Taking a strong pull of his candy cigarette, Jackson hooked his thumbs on his suspenders and smirked darkly under his pinstriped fedora, slung over his shoulder was the strap of a Thompson Submachine holy water gun, all in all he played a very convincing mobster Mr. Green. Oz's transformation was perhaps the least obvious, besides his weapons, the only new thing was the brilliant purple bowtie, he'd been coerced into taking the 'braniac' role of Professor Plum. And of course there was Andrew in his Mrs. White maid outfit, waving his sharpened rolling pin around menacingly.

"And go," Andrew screeched as he took off into the graveyard, albeit a bit wobbly because of the mary-janes he'd stuffed his feet into.

* * *

All was going well with the game, Emmy, Melody, and Oz, were, as expected leading the kill count. Emmy surprisingly with five, Oz with three, and Melody with two and a half—it was a whole thing with a dissolving slug demon. Andrew and Jackson had managed to beat a vampire into submission while Rowley had single handedly blinded a vampire with mustard and then accidentally killed a demon because apparently, mustard was poisonous to his species. Devon, on the very other, pathetic, hand, was running as fast as he could, because somehow is humming had roused a group of particularly ornery vampires.

* * *

"Ahhhhhh!"

Six figures snapped to near military attention, despite nearly all of them having a deep seeded dislike for the military.

Emmy frowned, "That sounded like…"

"Devon," Oz finished.

Rowley and Jackson and Andrew scrambled back behind the three most capable fighters. Weapons were removed from hiding places, and tension flooded the air, making it hard to breathe without conscious thought.

Melody winced as another squeal pierced the air, "Do you think we should go look for him?"

Oz shrugged and those fluent in Oz-Laconic, understood that to be, "Devon always manages to get out of scrapes without too much damage."

Just as the group was about to relax, Devon half stumbled half tumbled through the brush, three vampires hot on his heels. Luckily for him, one of them was a rather large idiot and charged right into a tree branch. The other two were quickly dispatched by Emmy and melody who proceeded to high-five and trade compliments.

Devon looked pale enough to faint, but somehow the Dingo managed to remain upright.

"Not cool," he grunted trying to catch his breath.

Andrew bit his lip, "At least they didn't catch you."

"Ahh," Devon glared. "Shut up, they might hear you!"

Oz shook his head, "Dev, man, they're dead."

"I know that," the singer hissed. "But what about the others. Jeeze, I hum one Liza Minnelli tune and it's Devon-time."

"Liza Minnelli," Melody asked slowly. "There are so many things wrong about that statement, that I don't know where to start."

Rowley groaned in agreement, "I have to agree with the half-pint on this one, Devon. You're out."

Jackson moved to stand beside Rowley, "Sorry man, this just ain't one of those bands where you can sing Liza Minnelli."

Devon's eyes went wide, and all six would swear that tears were trembling in his eyes. In the midst of Devon's despair, a figure leapt from the bushes and flew at the distraught man. The thing landed on his back and the next thing anyone knew Devon was screaming bloody murder and shaking desperately to fling the vampire off his back.

Emmy took pity on him and tackled Devon to the ground and staked the vampire. Curling in on himself, Devon started to mutter to himself.

Oz shook his head, "Alright, let's go back to the hotel, we're heading home tomorrow."

With some effort, Rowley and Jackson hefted the near catatonic man-child up to his feet.

"Bad penny," Devon murmured. "Bad penny, bad luck, heads up, no more luck! No more pennies. Abraham Lincoln bad, bad, bad, liar, bad man, bad president!"

* * *

Stuck alone in the house while Buffy and Faith worked out or did whatever it was girls did together, House decided to put his free time to good use. Now that the apartment was in some sort of order, it was easier than expected to scrounge up each and every last tiny scrap of what he searched for.

And so House sat with a shoebox filled with condoms, Buffy's birth control pills, and any and all herbs in the house that promoted sterility, smirking, he started having a bit of target practice. He didn't stop until every last prophylactic was in the trash, and then he took the trash out just as a secondary precaution.

Of course when he was done, and his plans were all settled, and House had rubbed the fertility statue for luck, he laughed like a madman. Entirely and utterly excited and diabolical.

* * *

Faith had been put through her paces by Buffy. They stretched and did a bit of light sparring. Just to be on the safe side for when they went out for the first reunion slayage. Once Buffy was certain that Faith could walk and run without too much danger of falling or collapsing, Buffy took Faith for a little shoppage. This was an important moment. It was a start to something new. So new outfits in red and black leather were called for.

Red and Black swirling leather pants and cotton tanks donned, Buffy and Faith compared weapon choices and stashed their pretties.

House frowned as he stood in the doorway to the kitchen, "So you two about done playing Rambo in my kitchen?"

"Just. A. Bout," Faith punctuated each word with a weapon being stashed somewhere on her person.

All three of them spun towards the front door as a knock sounded.

"House, I'm coming in, stash all fleshy bits now," Wilson called from the other side of the door before the door swung wide to show James bearing pizza and beer.

Buffy smiled an peeked around her husband, "Hey, how are you?"

"I'm good," he smirked. "I'm James, James Bond."

Buffy pulled Faith out of the kitchen and couldn't help but notice James swallow roughly and his eyes glazed lightly.

"And how are you this fine evening," James asked, voice cracking on 'fine'.

House snickered before coughing to clear his throat, "Leaving, because 007 will be on in a minute."

Buffy accepted his rather insistent kiss, and the not-so-discreet fondling, "Fine, we're going. Goodnight, James."

Buffy wrapped Wilson in a quick hug before starting towards the door.

Faith's tongue flitted out to whet her lips in the flirtatious way that Faith had down to a science, "I don't get a hug?"

The dark haired slayer spread her arms wide, a pout she'd learned from B fixed in place. After a tiny nudge from Buffy, James gave Faith a very quick and very uncomfortable looking hug. He pulled back almost instantaneously and changed directions to plop down on the couch.

Buffy locked gazes with Greg, a suspiciously mischievous look in his eyes. He tossed her one last salacious look before Faith pulled her out of the apartment.

* * *

"What was that," Buffy asked as they walked towards the graveyard. "Hugging him, a bit forward aren't we?"

"Only live once, B," Faith returned. "Well except for you, cat!"

"Hey," Buffy exclaimed as Faith took off at a run to get away from her vengeful sister.

Faith turned her head to look at the other slayer, "So what's the plan, B?"

Buffy shrugged, "Team slay? Then every slayer for herself?"

"Sounds good, Yo," Faith smirked. "Betcha I can smoke more than you can, has been."

Buffy's eyes narrowed, "You so did not just call me old!"

Faith took off giggling as they reached the cemetery, both slayers danced through the grave markers and statues. This was playing, this was joy, this was two slayers uniting in what they shared, the night, the darkness.

* * *

Faith was tucked into the couch in the apartment across from Buffy and House's, after deciding two things. One Buffy needed to satisfy the second H, and two, she didn't want to get a virus from Andrew's nerd-sheets.

Which left Buffy to creep into the apartment by herself. It was just before midnight, and though she'd told Greg she'd be back by 12 at the latest, she had expected him to be asleep on the couch.

Instead she found a gentle light flickering from the bedroom, frowning, Buffy took what weapons that she still had and tossed them on the couch.

"Babe," she called softly not wanting to wake him if he was sleeping.

"Bedroom," he called back.

Smiling to herself, Buffy walked towards the bedroom only to be met at the doorway with a rather surprising sight.

House, naked except for a pair of black silk boxers, a white doctor's coat she'd never seen him wear before, and a stethoscope about his neck.

Buffy couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face or the hand that rose to cover the smile and the blush that was rising.

"Hello, Miss," House purred, coat falling open further and exposing a firm chest and a trail of brown hair leading very far down.

Buffy bit her cheek in an attempt to keep a straight face, "Hello, Doctor."

In a fraction of a second, his hands were on her neck in a mockery of an exam, "Oh my, I'm afraid I really must insist you come into my office for a _full_ examination."

The giggle was only half formed before House pulled her into the room and slammed the door behind them.

* * *

Review please as always it makes an author not crave chocolate cake like she shouldn't. Mmm, chocolate cake…

I will continue writing, my little depressive phase is over wahoo!

Next chapter should have some:

Wilson Fatih giddiness

Waffles

Andrew Faith glareage

Potentail Fellow confusage

Slayer bondage-eww mind out of the gutters, not what I meant

And some other fun stuff hehe.


	22. A Mommy By Any Other Name

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.  
A/N: This is My Birthday Special...please enjoy.

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* * *

Sunday, November 3__rd_

Buffy was at the stove making a stack of waffles, bacon, warm jam. Really she was just trying to keep her toes warm. For some reason she wasn't quite she wanted to know, all of her socks had gone missing. She had two choices, one—stay in bed and die of hunger or two—get up to make breakfast and possibly lose a toe or three.

Buffy chose to fill her tummy up with deliciousness. There was also the fact that she owed Oz a nice home cooked breakfast for playing Distractionary Tour Guide.

House was humming behind a copy of the Sunday Comics. Though just to spite the hand that fed his wife, House had stolen just the comics from Andrew's paper, despite the fact that both males subscribed to the same newspaper.

He did seem a little too self-satisfied in the mid-morning glow coming through the window. Buffy just shook off the one eye that was glued to her backside…he'd just keep staring even if he was reprimanded.

"Coffee," she asked over her shoulder.

"Please," House smirked. "So plans for today?"

"Playing referee," Buffy whimpered as the reality of the day hit her.

Andrew and Faith would squabble. Faith would maul Devon. Devon would run crying to Mommy Buffy. Buffy would whimper. Melody would help hold Devon down so House could draw a mustache on him. Buffy would whimper. House would pout and look cute. Buffy would whimper.

"Fuck," Buffy grumbled in defeat.

House was on his feet surprisingly quickly, looked like the meditation was helping some.

"Okay, but right here in the kitchen, Babe?"

Buffy smacked him on the back of his head with the spatula she held, "I meant I'm going to want to jump off a bridge after this."

"Ahh, but still, as your doctor, I'm going to recommend sex…lots and lots and lots of hot sweaty sexy sex. For stress relief or something like that," House grinned like the wolf that got Little Red Riding Buffy.

"Does that Hippo Guy know about you," Buffy asked offhandedly as a hand planted itself firmly on her lower belly.

House nodded as he stood behind Buffy, back to chest, not an millimeter of space between them.

"Oh yeah, he and I go _way_ back," he snickered and licked the shell of her ear.

Buffy sighed as she poured more batter in the waffle maker, "And seducing your patient is totally of the ethicalness, right?"

"Oh entirely," House nodded quickly and started to nip at her neck.

Letting out a completely dejected sigh Buffy pulled away from her husband slightly, "Well that's too bad. I like bad boys, rule breakers…"

House smirked not at all deterred, "Did I ever tell you how sexy it was that you broke into my apartment?"

Buffy frowned thoughtfully, "Actually, I don't think you have."

"Well I've been very remiss then," House nodded contritely. "I especially liked that little bit of nothing you were wearing."

Buffy deflated, "Pervert."

Before House could mount a defense, the front door slammed open and Devon came running into the apartment. Miraculously, he vaulted over the couch, barely missed crashing through the coffee table, and avoided the garbage can to stick his landing right next to Buffy. Happily, the older Sunnydale Veteran shoved House out of the way and wrapped his arms around Buffy's waist and shoved his face into her shoulder.

"Mommy they were mean to me," Devon wailed, actual tears slipping down his cheeks.

Buffy awkwardly patted the singer's head, "There, there?"

That didn't seem to be the right thing to say because Devon's cries got louder and his arms tightened making Buffy gasp slightly.

Shortly, Devon was hauled off of Buffy by a very annoyed Emmy. Surprisingly, she and Oz were the only ones who happened to be tolerating Devon's childish behavior.

"What happened," Buffy asked patiently as she started handing out plates filled to the brim with food.

Oz swallowed a piece of bacon whole before answering, "Vampire. Devon didn't exactly personify manliness."

"Evil Lincoln," Devon squealed from where he was being strapped to the couch.

"Okay," Buffy shook her head before hugging each of the sane members of her family. "I'm really glad I have a therapy fund for Slayers and company."

Andrew shrugged as he dug through the pantry, "Nutella?"

House smirked, "We finished it last night."

Melody shuddered before getting heavily involved with the syrup smothered waffles in front of her.

"Silencing spell," Andrew cried. "I'll do it, I will!"

"Seconding," Oz agreed before grabbing another eight slices of delicious, crispy bacon.

House was taking the disgusted looks as an ego stroke. Buffy wasn't pleased and purposefully dropped his chocolate chip waffle on the floor before picking it up.

"Five second rule," she smiled sweetly.

House smiled right on back, "It looks great, Honey."

He would rather eat his punishment than suffer for it later…as in withholding sex. Buffy wasn't above it in extreme cases, and flaunting their sex life was one of those things.

Jackson and Rowley were snickering as they 'fed' Devon some breakfast, in reality they were attempting to give him a sweet makeover. There was a bit of a failure when the door slammed open and Faith bounced in. Devon got a red eye from the fresh raspberry jam.

"Yo," Faith smirked. "Where are my dark waffles?"

"Coming up," Buffy answered as she poured chocolate waffle batter into the iron.

Faith sauntered over to Andrew, "Hey, Nerd."

Andrew's eyes narrowed, "Bully."

"Sissy," Faith's smile grew.

"Hot-Pocket-Stealer!"

"Hot-Pocket-Hoarder!"

"Morons," was Buffy's rebuttal to their argument.

That was apparently the magic word. While both Andrew and Faith got along with Buffy, neither of them was stupid enough to think that they could cross her or make her unhappy or just do something she would frown at.

Call it a survival instinct.

* * *

Wilson wasn't a genius like House, but he was no slouch. So it was concerning when he was conned into delivering 16 quarts of miscellanea Ben & Jerry's.

It wasn't that he'd paid for the ice cream out of pocket, no, he'd been reimbursed. It wasn't that he'd driven out of his way to get it. It wasn't that he'd gotten more than a few disturbed looks and tutting noises. No, it was the fact that the newest fright in his life had answered the door with a cock of her hip and a salacious look.

"About time, J," Faith drawled as she slid her hand around the grocery bags and yanked them and James into the apartment.

Gregory snickered, "Ooh, did you get me Chocolate Fudge?"

Faith licked her lips with a wink, "I like Vanilla, with a few swirls."

"Down, Faith," was Buffy's reprimand. "Would you like some waffles and ice cream, James?"

"Um...I…uh, I guess," Wilson answered.

"Yum," Faith giggled before grinning, displaying shiny white, sharp teeth.

* * *

"So, mini-us'," Faith smiled a little deviously as she looked at Melody and Emmy from beside Buffy.

"Yep," Buffy agreed. "Think you can handle them?"

"I handled the council's automatons. I can handle two of you."

Buffy gaped in faux surprise, "That word was more than two syllables. Maybe that coma did something to your brain!"

Faith's smile disappeared and she stared at her sister in arms unblinkingly, "Go to hell."

Buffy rolled her eyes and turned to the wide-eyed teenagers, "Melody, Emmy, this is the only other slayer, sadly, still alive, Faith."

Faith slapped Buffy's arm hard enough to bruise, "I'm the fun one!"

"Hey," Buffy pouted. "I'm fun too. Except, I'm fun with a sense of responsibility…"

Faith ignored her sister, "If that's Mommy Buffy, can I just be cool Aunt Faith?"

Melody and Emmy turned to each other and had a silent conversation.

"You have two un-cool passes, and after that you become Mommy Faith," Melody declared.

Emmy nodded, "But there is an appeals process."

Faith started, "Why do I feel like I'm back in jail."

Buffy shrugged, "It's a jail of a different horse."

_

* * *

Monday, November 4__th_

"No means no, Andrew," Faith all but screamed.

Andrew fidgeted, "Shhh!"

They were getting strange looks, which wasn't strange at all, really. They were in an upscale furniture and décor store, and Andrew was having the time of his life figuring out what Faith's new apartment should look like. Faith was not having the time of her life, she was sort of regretting not taking Buffy up on her offer to help clean the apartment and then run errands.

Buffy was definitely the lesser of two evils, but shopping was the lesser evil of cleaning.

"No hot pink," Faith affirmed.

"What about royal blue," Andrew hurried onto the next color palette he had picked out.

"Maybe, with some browns," Faith offered.

Andrew's eyes narrowed, "We'll see."

* * *

House was whistling as he nearly skipped down the hospital corridors, people smiled at him. Children waved shyly. Evil spirits ran away in confusion. Potential Fellows stalked him unashamedly.

They followed him from Wilson's office, to Cuddy's office, to the Nurse's station on the third floor, to the Maternity ward, to the pharmacy, to the lab, to the morgue before they had to scatter or be caught.

House rolled his eyes. One upside to living with a slayer for so long was that the sneakiness of humans didn't compare afterwards.

Once he was 99 percent sure he was alone, he grabbed his cell phone and started dialing.

"Hey Babe," he couldn't help the smile that crept up behind him and stabbed him in the back. "I was wondering if you wanted to come and visit. I think I could use some help keeping my temper in check. Cuddy suggested I get my assistant's help."

* * *

Disguises were a girl's best friend. Okay, so she wasn't exactly 00Buffy, but it would do. A silk scarf to keep her hair under wraps, ooh, bad pun, and a pair of dark shades, her leather duster, and big fluffy scarf to keep her face obscured.

Of course there were a few people who wouldn't or couldn't be fooled by such a mediocre disguise. Cuddy was one of them. Her bullshit meter was pretty sensitive. It came from working with House for so long. Foreman had a pretty good meter as well but he wasn't quite as suspicious. Cameron would know simply because of the level of ridiculousness. Chase would know because he'd guess and be right, damn lucky Australian.

Luckily, Buffy managed to make it to the clinic and sign in under her assumed name, Anne Merrick, and requesting House especially, actually demanded was more like it.

* * *

"House," Cut-Throat Bitch called from the doorframe, "Clinic, now. Some woman just demanded you see her. Name of Anne…Merrid, or something. I can…take it, if you don't want to go."

House pushed himself away from his desk. Did the Bitch actually think he was that stupid, seriously?

"Why don't you go do some volunteer work, I don't know, maybe down in Doctor Jane's floor," House suggested 'helpfully'.

By the time House managed to get to the clinic, Buffy was already un-disguised, and laying on the table…watching General Hospital.

"What just happened?"

Buffy smiled at her husband, "Steve just told Mary-Anne that he knew she was seeing his half brother, you know the pediatrician? Now they're going to have sex…'cuz, you know, that solves everything."

House pulled himself up onto the table, "Doesn't it?"

"No," Buffy shook her head playfully. "But I hear they're working on that."

House's face lit up, blue eyes glittering dangerously, "Hmm, then as a responsible doctor, I should really do some of my own research to help with the study."

Buffy frowned thoughtfully, "Are you taking Viagra…I mean, you've been really, really horny lately."

House pulled back in shock, he would never take performance enhancing drugs. They would just ruin his batting average.

* * *

"How long has he been in there," Amber prodded as she stared at the examination room door.

House had left for the clinic an hour ago, and still hadn't come back upstairs. So, Amber, being the responsible, competent doctor that she was, took it upon herself to go after him.

"I'm sorry, Miss," the nurse smiled tightly, "I'm afraid I can't tell you that. Doctor-Patient confidentiality."

Amber glowered, "Fine."

* * *

Faith was the one who greeted them when they came home from school, and Melody and Emmy were suitably suspicious.

"Is this a bribe," Melody asked.

"What," Faith huffed.

Emmy shrugged, "I mean I like cookies as much as the next girl, but I think this cookie has a string."

Melody nodded and looked at the offending piece of sugary food, "So…what is it that you need, Aunt Faith."

"Protection from Andrew," Emmy cut in, "time with Uncle James, or maybe you just need a little distraction while you steal Andrew's light-saber?"

Faith frowned, those two were devious, "Actually I just wanted some help setting up some IKEA furniture. I can never understand the Swede's directions."

"Done," Melody and Emmy smiled and followed the slayer upstairs.

* * *

When House finally left examination room number three, he was smiling brightly and walking a little bit too cheerfully, hell, he was swinging his cane in circles.

"What took you so long," Cut-Throat asked quickly.

Of course she'd gathered the troops and staged an ambush, which meant that all of the Potential Fellows, Cuddy, and Wilson were standing at the nurse's station.

House shrugged.

Cut-Throat stepped closer and sniffed deeply, "Why do you smell like Chinese?"

Another shrug, "She was choking. On kung-pow chicken."

Wilson and Cuddy shared an eye roll before retreating. They weren't going to be the ones to ruin House's game, especially if it didn't hurt anyone.

Amber was seething, "Who was she? Your girlfriend, sister? Mother? Are you a pedophile?"

"Are you an idiot," House returned still grinning and scaring the hell out of his potential employees.

* * *

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I wrote this in about an hour and a half…it's a bit rushed. But I wanted to get you all something as a treat. Today I turned 20! Yeah, I feel old, my back is sore and my ankle keeps popping. On the upside I only have a year to go until I can drink and proceed to ignore that pain..haha.

Hope you enjoy the little hints I put in here. Love the feedback as always dears.


	23. A Day In The Life

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.  
A/N: Well I know it has been some time. School was very busy this semester—whoever knew becoming a teacher was so much damn busy work. On the other hand my nephew was born November 1st, and after a few complications both Mommy and Baby are very healthy—You know if it weren't for the crying I'd kidnap the little bugger and cuddle him to death. So finally I got around to writing—and hopefully I'll be doing that much more often now.

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* * *

_Wednesday, November 6__th_

Buffy rolled over. Smile spread across her lips, there was nothing better than sleeping in on a cool day when the covers were toasty warm. Yawning lightly, the petite woman's eyes slid open and she let out a sharp squeal pulling the blankets up to her neck.

There in House's spot on the bed, was none other than her own pesky stalker: Caleb, a.k.a. The First Evil. Calming her breathing, Buffy glared at the man who was looking at her, lying on his side, propped up by his arm—a stupid little smirk on his admittedly not so ugly face.

Jaw locking, Buffy growled, "Okay, if this is going to happen, we're going to need some ground rules."

Caleb quirked a brow, "What is this, a relationship?"

"Apparently," Buffy sniffed and rolled over so her back was facing him. It didn't take long for her to flip back over though, glare in place, "How long have you been there?"

"Ever since scruffy went to work," Buffy shot upright, she needed to check on Melody and Emmy and Andrew and Faith.

"Relax, Buffy, the nerd sent the mini-you duo to school, and the slutty slayer is still passed out."

Rolling her neck, Buffy slipped off the bed, "Don't call them that. Any of them."

"Sorry, didn't think you'd be so touchy about your 'friends'. So what else are we doing today,"

"Killing you and taking a nap," Buffy grumbled as she tugged on her fluffy robe.

Ignoring the stalker who followed her into the kitchen as she made her tea and toast, Buffy checked the fridge for any notes. Notes that weren't taped to the forehead often ended up being taped to the fridge—when they weren't taped to the ceiling. Honestly House had been working overtime in the last month to teach Melody, Emmy, and Andrew his bad habits. If Buffy was honest with herself, she would be shocked that the trio hadn't started saying "duh" at every turn.

Back to the note…notes on the refrigerator, there was one from Mel and Emmy, one from Faith and Andrew, and one from her beloved husband. Faith had jotted down some mishmash of letters that Buffy assumed to be her kidnapping note for Andrew. Buffy crumpled it up and tossed it into the trash and moved onto the girls. After a quick perusal, it was clear Emmy had actually written it, asking for a ride to the library after school. House, on the other hand, had simply scrawled his love and that he'd be back for lunch.

Straightening, Buffy felt the odd sensation of her body touching something that wasn't quite there. Her mind snapped back to the pest. Maybe there was a spell or a voodoo doll that would keep Caleb out of her personal bubble. But being Buffy, she knew that luck wouldn't be on her side.

"So what is the plan," Caleb smirked. "Are we going to kill something, or uh dressy up naughty and flaunt it?"

"And again, I want you to be corporeal, so I can slap you into yesterday," Buffy responded lightly, though her eyes were narrowed.

* * *

Buffy ran her fingers through her hair, sliding the suds down soft blonde strands to swirl down the drain. Humming, Buffy turned around under the shower spray. She really did love a hot shower, all of the aches and pains just melted away.

"Well grab a cab, grab a cap and baby, come right by," Buffy sang under her breath.

"And she was hot—as she kissed my mouth. She was hot," the lyrics were smooth with a bit of a country brogue.

Buffy froze and stiffened, hands shifting quickly to cover her body, "Caleb!"

"Yes, Ma'am," Caleb answered promptly.

"What the hell do you think you're doing in here!"

"I thought we were singing…"

A slender hand snaked around the curtain and pulled back a fresh towel.

"Aww," Caleb cooed. "Don't be like that. I've seen you naked before what makes this any different?"

The shower curtain was roughly shoved to the side and Caleb was met with a glare that would actually have killed him, had he been well, corporeal.

"This is going to get really old, really fast," Buffy groused as she flicked her fingertips at the man perched on the sink-top—small drops of water passing through his face. "And don't call me Ma'am!"

* * *

After Buffy had slammed the door on Caleb's face as she dressed, the apparition had disappeared… At least until Buffy was driving down the road to the grocery store, multi-colored list in her back pocket.

"So," Caleb drawled, cheeky smile in place, "how have we been?"

Buffy jumped, knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. "Come to think of it, I understand now why I preferred the Bringers."

"Oh, why?"

"Well, they were blind and mute," Buffy smirked as she turned the wheel.

"Looks like the Fiesta Queen has bite."

"Damn straight," Buffy's eyes twinkled, and just for a second, it was like she was bantering with Spike and not her not-so-mortal-mortal-enemy.

Careening into a parking spot, Buffy grabbed her purse and her reusable bags and hopped out of her SUV. Of course the moment she turned around she stepped back due to the untimely presence of Caleb.

"Okay," Buffy sighed, "if we're going to do _this_, we really do need to have ground rules."

"Like," Caleb asked nearly curious.

Buffy bit her lip in thought, "Like in public places, you don't be invisible so I don't look like a crazy person."

"How about no," Caleb returned hands locking behind his back and rocking on his heels boyishly.

Buffy rifled in her purse and pulled out two small pink balls, "How about I put in these ear plugs and pretend you don't exist."

Caleb's face darkened considerably, "Deal."

Buffy dropped the ear plugs back into her purse, "Nice doing business with you, now shall we?"

"Fine," Caleb grumbled, not liking in the least that he had just been conned.

Buffy was already halfway towards the shop doors when she turned back and looked at the embodiment of evil, "Oh, and don't think I've forgotten about the ground rules, we'll work the rest of them out later."

Caleb sniffed and stalked toward her. When he came level with her, he smiled sweetly and stood as closely as he could to her, "Of course, Dear."

* * *

Buffy reached over the counter to take the steaks from the middle-aged woman, Caleb had shoved his hands in his pockets and was standing rather like an abandoned child beside the nearly full cart.

"You have such a handsome husband," the woman smiled at Buffy.

Buffy's mouth dropped open before she forced herself to close her mouth and smile weakly before walking back to Caleb and her cart.

Caleb, being as perceptive as he was, narrowed in immediately on Buffy's unease.

"Something wrong, Dear?"

Buffy shuddered, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," Caleb responded, thoroughly confused. "Now we need butter."

"Right," Buffy agreed still in shock.

* * *

Buffy couldn't help but smile as she pulled up just behind House's motorcycle as he was getting off. Caleb had disappeared again for the moment, leaving Buffy to herself.

House tucked his helmet under his arm and limped over to his wife, "Hey, Babe."

"Sweetheart," Buffy returned as House leaned down and curled one hand around the base of her neck as he pressed his lips to hers.

"Mm, delicious," House muttered. "You know, I have an hour before I have to head back… Feel like an encore of last night?"

Buffy moaned and leaned against Greg, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, one hand tucking into his back pocket.

"You have no idea how good that sounds."

House pouted a little, "Not even a little fooling around?"

"Play your cards right and I might be able to find some time," Buffy licked her lips in hope.

"What do I need to do," Greg asked honestly—hell he may be mischievous, but he didn't jeopardize smoochie-time with Buffy consciously.

"Go microwave the can of soup on the stove while I bring the groceries in," the blonde woman grinned and pressed herself more firmly against her husband.

* * *

House couldn't help but grin to himself, eyes sparkling darkly as he poured the tomato soup and water into the glass dish. Double checking that Buffy was still outside, Doctor Gregory House slipped a small plastic baggie of a brownish-black powder from his jacket pocket, and sprinkled it onto the red soup. Mixing it quickly, house tucked it into the microwave and punched in the time before going to shed his jacket.

Buffy kicked the door closed amid the half dozen bags filled to the brim with food. She could hear House humming Neil Young's "Tonight's The Night". He was certainly in a good mood, and to tell the truth, it was infectious. Nodding her head to the imaginary beat, Buffy sorted through the bags and put them away in the cabinets and the fridge.

As she was reaching down to grab the cranberry juice, House came up behind her and gripped her hips, swaying gently. Spinning, Buffy reached up and linked her hands behind Greg's neck.

Before anything real could happen, the microwave dinged and House released his wife disappointedly. She grabbed the cups and poured them both some juice while he dished out the soup. Smiling as he set a bowl before her, Buffy leaned up and pecked his cheek.

"Love you."

House grinned, those words always made him smile, "Love you too."

The Slayer moaned as the warm soup touched her tongue, "Oh this is good, a little different than usual, but good."

House swallowed his mouthful of soup and nodded, "I put some rosemary in it to liven it up—Wilson said it was good."

"Yummy. So have you heard anything from Faith or Andrew today?"

Shrugging, House thought back to the frantic phone call he'd received just as he had arrived at the hospital.

"I think Faith was taking him to a cookie factory down in Pennsylvania," Greg watched as her cute little mouth fell into an 'O' that was usually reserved solely for him.

"That's, oh god," Buffy chuckled in disbelief. "She's actually being nice to him—I think. I hope, gosh, I hope she didn't duck tape him up and tease him."

House shrugged, "Either way it doesn't sound so bad."

Buffy's half smile turned into a frown in record time, "You want to play with Faith?"

"No, no, and no!" House backpedalled as quickly as he could, "I meant I wouldn't mind you tying me up, Babe."

The frown morphed into a sexy little smirk as the last of Buffy's soup disappeared, "Hmm, too bad I don't have the patience right now to tie you up."

"Oh?"

"Oh," Buffy repeated as she stood and nearly dragged him to the bedroom.

He sent a silent prayer up to the Powers for slayer metabolism.

* * *

Meanwhile almost to Pittsburgh, Andrew was shivering in his Luke Skywalker jammies. Faith, on the other hand was happily humming along to her requisitioned mp3 player—which really meant that on the way out the door she had snagged Andrew's. Sitting in the back of the gypsy cab the duo were a sight to see, luckily, the driver was being paid not to care—especially that the male was duck taped quite tightly but didn't seem to be too angry.

* * *

Emmy rolled her eyes at her adoptive mother and sister. They were both staring confusedly at the building before them.

"Has this always been here," Buffy asked.

Melody nodded, "Yeah, this has to be new. I mean we've run down this road more than a dozen times."

Another eye roll, "It's been here for more than half a century."

"Sure," Buffy hedged, "that's what they want you to believe."

Melody frowned, "I don't buy it."

"Whatever," Emmy huffed as she walked up the steps to the Princeton Plainsboro Public Library.

Melody and Buffy shared a shoulder shrug before following. After all, Buffy had to drive them home, and Melody had homework to do too.

* * *

Standing in an alcove of the library, Buffy listened intently to the person on the other end of the phone call.

"So everything is set?"

She smiled as the person responded, "Good, I'll tell her tonight. Thanks Oz, you're brilliant! When is your next gig, I figure I'll take the girls and we'll bond. Friday night, okay I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

Over dinner, House's Chicken Alfredo, Buffy and Greg talked with the girls about school. House inquiring about what "crap" they were being taught and Buffy asking about their classmates. Melody and Emmy shrugged the questions off answering only that things were good. They did however return the interrogation and asked when they could visit House and Buffy at work, which of course reminded House that his assistant hadn't been to work in a while, and he mentally reminded himself to punish her.

Buffy glanced over her shoulder at the clock, Faith and Andrew weren't back yet, and Andrew's phone was off. She figured she'd take the patrol tonight—she didn't like it when Mel and Em slayed on weeknights, they had school to think about.

Turning back to the conversation about Andrew's muffins, Buffy sighed. Sometimes life was boring as hell—she loved it.

"Oh," Buffy straightened in her chair, "Melody, I have some good news for you. I've arranged for you to talk to your parents tomorrow."

Melody shot out of her chair and wrapped Buffy in a tight hug, nearly strangling the older slayer in joy.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Buffy nodded returning the happy smile, but one eye was stuck on Emmy whose face was slack, eyes downcast. Patting Melody on the back, Buffy quickly changed the subject to what Faith could possibly be doing to torture Andrew. Emmy bounced back fairly quickly, but Buffy wasn't about to dismiss the moment of sadness.

_

* * *

Thursday, November 7__th_

Buffy dropped down into the booth at the back of the demon bar. Across from her was a shadow.

"I heard you wanted to talk to me," she laced her fingers together and dropped her hands on the table.

The man on the other side of the table leaned forward, "Yes. We have our deal, and I've ensured that no one in my control breaks it, right?"

Buffy nodded. This was one of the deals she'd made with the vampires of Princeton that had pissed off the council. She supplied blood—bagged, but human to the vampires and they didn't attack humans and she didn't slay them. There were always a few who wandered into the territory and killed—they were swiftly dealt with by a slayer, or the other vampires.

"What is it," Buffy asked a little warily.

"There have been rumors that a coven has been heading south from New York, taking over towns and leaving record high deaths in their wake. A few of my boys saw a couple strangers the other night. We dealt with them, but they were wearing rings," the near century old vampire plunked down a heavy, ugly ring before the slayer.

Reaching for the object, Buffy frowned as she rolled it around her fingers. The letters "NYC" and three symbols Buffy knew to be from the Greek alphabet.

"You've gotta be kidding me," she shook her head. "Frat-Boy Vampires. Say Carlos, I miss vampires with class, like you, you know not to turn morons—don't repeat that though. I've a reputation to keep."

Carlos chuckled lowly a bit of fang flashing, "Wouldn't dream of it, Madame Slayer."

"I'll set up a patrol, you know where to reach me if you get any clues, have a good night."

* * *

Toeing off her boots, Buffy shrugged off her leather jacket and shimmied out of her jeans. In just her sweater and panties, Buffy waltzed into her bedroom. Surprised to see House was still awake and sitting up in bed.

"What are you reading," Buffy asked as she changed her sweater to an old t-shirt before dropping down onto the bed and scrambling under the covers.

"Translation of an alternative Indian medicine book," House answered as he shut the heavy book and dropped it on the floor before getting up. "How bad was tonight?"

Buffy's lip curled in displeasure, "Annoying. Apparently some Frat in New York got turned is on a power trip south."

House left the bedroom but returned shortly with a steaming mug, "Raspberry tea. You look beat."

"Oh nice," Buffy pouted as she accepted the cup. "If it's anyone's fault I'm tired, it's yours!"

"I'll take that as a compliment," House winked before claiming Buffy's lips in a fiery kiss before releasing her. "Drink that, and then sleep, doctor's orders."

Buffy sighed slightly, "That's too bad I decided I wanted Wilson as my doctor."

Taking a sip, Buffy cuddled down in bed, setting the mug on the side table.

"I'll kill him," was House's only response.

"That's nice, Dear," Buffy patted his leg tiredly.

This time it was House's turn to pout, and pout he did.

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* * *

Happy New Years Everyone! May everyone have a safe and happy New Year!


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